


Two Voice Harmony

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-03
Updated: 2002-02-03
Packaged: 2018-11-20 07:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 70,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11331144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Skinner and Mulder work together to solve a few mysteries. Totally A/U. I changed history-I changed quite a bit. No aliens, all human skullduggery.





	Two Voice Harmony

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Two Voice Harmony

## Two Voice Harmony

#### by Jo Jo Lee

Title: Two Voice Harmony  
Author: Jo Jo Lee  
Feedback to:   
Author's Website:   
Status: Complete  
Category: AU  
Pairing (Primary): Mulder/Skinner  
Pairing(s) (Secondary):   
Crossover Fandom (if any):   
Crossover Info (if any):   
Other Pairing Info:   
Rating: NC-17  
Spoilers: Lots of references but this story is totally A/U  
Permission to Archive:   
Series or Sequel/Prequel:   
Notes:   
Warnings:   
Disclaimer: All X-File characters belong to somebody other than myself. No profit, Just fun.  
Summary: Skinner and Mulder work together to solve a few mysteries. Totally A/U. I changed history-I changed quite a bit. No aliens, all human skullduggery.

* * *

Two Voice Harmony  
Chapter 1 

Hoover Building  
June 27 

Skinner wearily leaned back and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was late and he was tired and he was more than aggravated with Director Sikora's latest whim. God, what was the man thinking? He was actually creating a whole new department because his temperamental pet couldn't play nice down in Peterson's playroom! 

The guy had only five years in the bureau and Sikora had made him a department head! Many men, good men, went their entire careers and never became heads of their own department. A department of one...what a crock! X-Files...cold cases...tabloid stuff, a stupid waste of time! Shit! Now he was AD over two departments. Violent Crimes (VCU), which numbered over 40,000 agents nationwide and the X-Files which numbered one! Of course, the guy would be working half of his time lent out to VCU under Reg Pardue, the SAIC of the DC Bureau. That was the deal that the Director had struck with Agent Mulder to keep him in the Bureau. 

Since when do mere agents strike deals with the Director of the FBI? Since they have congressional contacts, hail from Martha's Vineyard and get their doctorate at Oxford. Shit, Skinner hated this. He straightened in his chair and with a grimace reached for the personnel file he had avoided all afternoon. 

Basement/ Hoover Building 

Mulder walked in the door and flipped on the light in his new work place. The light illuminated the small room and the heavy coating of dust on the file cabinets and the dilapidated desk which valiantly stood on it's three legs. There was no chair and no phone. To Mulder, it looked like heaven. It was his. No more Peterson, no more hassles with his colleagues. No more marathon profiling. No more walking on the edge of a breakdown with no net. Peace, of a sort. He would be working on the X-Files and VCU, but only under Reggie. 

He had always liked Reggie Pardue and had worked well with him and as for AD Skinner, well, Peterson had said he was a straight laced bastard. Must be something good about Skinner if Peterson disliked him so much. And the X-Files! He had always been intrigued by their existence and could not wait to get his hands on them. He theorized that there would be links between some of the cases and that some would be solvable. 

The Bureau, just like any bureaucracy, lost sight of and buried information in the glut and hectic pace of cases accumulating through time. Cases got stalled and dismissed, then set aside and forgotten...like that of his sister's. Abducted, September 27th, 1973-FBI File X-24765. An X-file, forgotten by anyone in a position to solve it, until now. He shook his head and sat on the filthy floor and started making out requisitions to give Skinner in the morning to transform this basement copy room into the X-File department office. 

Skinner put the last signed expense report in his out basket and stared at the personnel file he was still avoiding. He had to read it. He had a meeting with the guy in the morning. He had to be prepared. God, how he hated having the guy rammed down his throat! Why couldn't he just be transferred to VCU?...then he would report to Reg, not me. However, he was a fucking department head, so he has to report right to me...how wonderful! Shit! Him and his connections...Skinner got up quickly and headed for his coffee machine. He hated connections and the pricks who went with them. 

Skinner had become an AD at the unheard age of 35, and had done it without any connections. He had been holding his own for two years against some very connected pricks and other assorted assholes with just his work to support him. Truthfully, Sikora had supported him and been largely responsible for his rapid rise. However, Skinner had earned Sikora's support beginning way back in Nam. OK...it was a connection of sorts, made in blood, not the happenstance of a fortunate birth. Putting his coffee cup on the desk, he sat and settled himself down to read the file. Damm, it was thick! 

Skinner finished the file and sat back. No wonder the Director had wanted to keep Mulder. He had been right to yank him away from Peterson. Peterson was burning Mulder out and wasting him. Mulder had a 200+ IQ and close to an endemic memory. He had an excellent solve rate and on some very impressive and difficult cases. Skinner had heard of Peterson's golden boy, "Spooky", but it hadn't occurred to Skinner that "Spooky" was Mulder. 

Most of Mulder's time had been spent in the 60 foot deep pit at Quantico where Peterson had worked him long and hard. Reg had occasionally appropriated him and taken him into the field to work. Mulder had done well, but it was apparent that Peterson had not given Mulder any time to decompress from those field cases. No wonder the Bureau skinks were concerned with Mulder's mental health. 

The Bureau skinks had diagnosed Mulder as having an acute case of Post Traumatic Syndrome...acute? Not good. This resulted in Mulder having a sleep disorder and various stress related symptoms. Mulder also had a problem with anger...oh joy. His occasional tantrums were taken out, usually, on his office trash can. Skinner wondered where Mulder's anger had been expressed when it wasn't in it's "usual" mode. Really, it had to read worst then it was. 

Mulder was field certified, after all. If it was as bad as it read, Mulder wouldn't even be an agent. There were quite a few Nam vets serving in the Bureau with PST, himself included. How in the hell did a 28 year old, non vet acquire an acute case of PTS? However, that bit about his sister was unsettling to say the least, as well as the fact that the FBI Personnel Department was listed as next of kin. Skinner could well image that Mulder had been vulnerable to Peterson's manipulations and quilt laden mind games. 

Sikora, presented with a Peterson created workaholic who needed down time, probably thought the X-Files were a pretty clever ploy when Mulder asked for them. It had been evident that Sikora did not expect a lot from the X-Files and had not mentioned any enlargement of the 'department'. His apparent goal was to preserve Mulder for the VCU cases, trusting Reg Purdue would not misuse Mulder. 

Skinner sighed, yea, he could see why Sikora wanted to grab this guy away from Peterson and save him for the Bureau, but to create a whole department and make him a department head was way over the top. The guy was only 28 and he fucking didn't like it. 

Next Morning  
Hoover Building  
Office of AD Skinner 

Skinner was giving his 'welcome aboard and here are my expectations speech' by rote as he examined his new agent. Damm! Mulder was gorgeous! This kind of distraction, he did not need. Those eyes, that lip, those long elegant fingers...that long lean package was beautiful to him. Damm. He did not indulge in that part of his personal life. He couldn't afford to. He had worked too hard to throw it away on a transient pleasure. He could live without it and had lived without it for a long time. But damm, he could live easier without this kind of reminder of what he lacked in his life. He was finally winding up and hoped he had covered all the points. He had stopped listening to himself a while back. 

"Are there any questions, Agent Mulder?" 

The young agent sat a bit straighter and reached into his pocket and put a small pile of requisitions on Skinner's desk. 

"Sir, there are for my office. I'm already sorting through the X-Files and the sooner these are approved and ordered, the sooner I can get to work." 

"Agent Mulder go see maintenance and see if they can supply you with a desk and a chair...ask about the light fixture and office supplies. I'll approve the rest. Unlike Quantico, in this building, furniture is never ordered, just resurrected from some long forgotten corner." 

The young agent grinned and Skinner clenched his jaw. Damm, he had a nice voice and that grin was too cute. Damm. Before he could stop himself, he heard himself asking, "Why did you want to work with the X-Files?" 

Mulder started in with youthful enthusiasm, how Skinner loathed youthful enthusiasm. Mulder continued to expound about all he hoped to fine. Links, strange occurrences, did he actually say something about werewolves and vampire legends? After about five minutes, Mulder sat back and captured Skinner's attention as he concluded in a soft voice. 

"There are a lot of forgotten cases that might be solved for the families. To have closure, an answer, even a possible recovery of a victim. You probably read in my file that my sister's case is still unsolved. I have personal experience of what it's like to have a family member disappear with no explanation year after year. The dust is thick on my sister's file and on all the other disappearances and homicides that were not solved. I'm anxious to wipe all that dust away and reexamine them and see if there is any substance to build on." 

Skinner was impressed in spite of himself. The young agent's motives were genuine, not just some scheme to play some sort of game in the basement. Skinner nodded his head and launched into his 'new department head, ASAC, lead agent speech' and had to concentrate to alter it. Having no subordinates in one's department made much of the speech irrelevant. However, the department's head responsibilities and procedures with their AD had to be covered. 

Finally, Skinner finished and dismissed his new agent. As Mulder exited to start his search for office furniture, Skinner slumped in his chair. Maybe he needed to make time to go out. Maybe a weekend trip to Boston or Baltimore. The thought of a one night stand depressed him, but he needed something. He had to keep his 'difference' out of the office at all costs. 

Six Weeks Later  
Hoover Building  
Office of AD Skinner 

"Agent Pardue, he did what?" Skinner bellowed across his desk. Agent Pardue simply shrugged. 

"To summarize what Keswick said, Mulder threw a tantrum, ditched the team and went after the SUB alone. He caught up with him and his next victim. Saved the victim, apprehended the SUB and handcuffed him to a object D'art at Museum of Natural Science and got himself knifed. He finally called for back-up before he lost consciousness. Nothing vital was damaged and he will be released from the hospital in a couple of days. Oh ya, the object D'art is now an object D'junk and I suspect we'll be hearing form the city of Los Angeles ." 

"He's crazy! Why didn't Keswick and the team back him up?" 

"You'll have to ask Keswick, but I have seen that Mulder is hard to follow at times, he moves too quickly to a solution and can't or won't take the time to explain if he thinks if could cost a life or miss the SUB. This time he was right. The victim would have been dead and dumped if Mulder had not run off. However, he's going to end up dead, doing this shit. The offices should be advised to follow his lead. His solve rate if nothing else should reassure them. It won't cost much if he's wrong. He's not so ego driven that he won't tear up his own profile as readily as he tears up all the previous work on a case when he gets called in. And he does junk the work done on a case when he's called in and rearranges the people. This hardly endears our intrepid profiler to his colleagues. Agent Mulder has got to learn some people skills other than pissing people off." 

Skinner rubbed the bridge of his nose. "A partner would help, still no bites on the position?" 

Pardue shook his head no. "No one wants to side track their career by moving to the X-Files, even part time. The budget this quarter only gives you one part-time person, right?" Pardue continued at Skinner's nod. "I think you need to extend the offer to Quantico. Someone may want to do field work badly enough to split time between here and Quantico." 

"All I need is another profiler!" 

Pardue leaned forward, "No, not a profiler, maybe a pathologist. You know how incompetent a lot of local police pathologists are. On those X-Files cases it might be really useful. What did Mulder say those pucture marks were?" 

At Skinner's pained expression, Pardue quickly continued. "Whatever, anyway the doc could go with Mulder in the field, both on VCU and X-File cases and leave the research to Mulder while they continue their work at Quantico. It may be the best we can do for now." 

Skinner nodded his head and said, "Go and work on it. Let me know as soon as you have anyone, but make sure they have or get their field qualification. I wouldn't think too many would have it. That will be all, Agent Pardue." 

Skinner bent his head and rubbed his temples. He could feel another headache coming on. Mulder, how could he be so reckless? But, he did save that woman and he was hurting and alone in a L.A. hospital. He'd have a 'chat' with him later. Right now he'd call the hospital and see how he was doing. Next, he was going to contact Agent Keswick and nail his hide to the wall. 

City of Angels Hospital  
Room 1013 

Mulder woke up in a foul mood. He was hurting and he was hooked up to more junk than was comfortable. He hated hospitals, the smells, the noises, the food, the hospital gowns, the doctors, the nurses, but most of all the way they made him feel. Anxious, he didn't trust medical anything. He was a terrible patient, almost rude but too frightened to take it too far. 

Frightened? Yea, he wished he could find another adjective, but it seemed to fit. Probably too many visits to emergency rooms as kid. Ah hell, it was lunch time, he could smell the food. Yuck. He'd have to eat it if he wanted out. He watched in mild amazement as his roommate was served lunch and he was passed by. What luck? 

Twenty minutes later, Agent Keswick came in and dumped a Wendy's sack on Mulder's lap and sat a large ice tea on his table. Agent Keswick was in his mid-forties, of average height, black hair worn a bit long and a thick build. His linebacker body communicated that he did not enjoy fetching and that he was not happy to be where he was. 

As Mulder looked at the wonderful smelling sack in surprise, Keswick's baritone finally stated, 'Heard from AD Skinner and he ordered me to bring you your lunch from Wendy's. Connors will bring you your Frosty plus another ice tea this afternoon. I'm suppose to apologize, but I can't do that yet. I'm still too mad. I'll see you tomorrow when I bring you your lunch.' With that Agent Keswick turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Mulder looked up from the sack and watched Keswick leave, too shocked to thank him. He rearranged his IV tube and decided to put his open mouth to good use and excitedly started to eat his hamburger and fries. 

In the middle of his repast, Nurse Barnes came in to check his hookups and told him that AD Skinner had called yesterday and had asked about his condition. Somehow, she had mentioned his numerous complaints and requests for real food. She also remarked that she was grateful that someone in the FBI had mercy on the poor nurses who had to take care of him. She grinned and said she expected a bit of peace from him and she would be back after he ate to give him his pain killer and that she expected no complaints. 

How in the world did Skinner know what he liked puzzled Mulder. Of course, his expense reports. Those stupid receipts were so itemized now, all Skinner had to do was to dig one out. And he did dig it out. Why would he do that? Mulder knew that Skinner had to be mad at him for ditching the team and getting hurt. Why would he go out of his way to do such a nice thing for him? Incredibly, he felt his eyes begin to tear. It had been a very long time since he could remember anybody going out of their way to do something nice for him. He smiled, it really was nice and the delivery service was very ...inventive. 

Next Day  
Out and About in L.A. 

Agent Keswick was having a very bad day. He suspected that his loving wife of eighteen years had been hiding from him this morning and that his children were avoiding him. He couldn't blame them. That brat, Mulder had pushed every button he had and then proceeded to identify the SUB, capture the SUB and rescue the next intended victim all in four days proving that their previous two months of work had been worthless. Three victims had died during those two months and Mulder ended up getting hurt. The idiot could have been killed. Dammit! He should have listened to Mulder, should have looked at the kid's solve rate...should have, should have, should have, shit. He smacked the steering wheel impatiently. Would this fucking drive through line ever move? 

Keswick cringed when he thought of AD Skinner's dressing down yesterday. He had never received on like that ever, not even as a rookie. Well, he could probably kiss any promotion good-bye while Skinner was AD. Skinner would not forget this little event. Still sitting in the drive through line, only four cars back now, his cell phone rang. He grabbed it and barked 'Keswick'. He muffled a groan when he heard 'AD Skinner, here. Agent Keswick have you delivered Agent Mulder's lunch yet?' Keswick sat up straight, 'No Sir, I'm waiting in the drive through now.' 

'Good, when you deliver Agent Mulder's lunch today, I want you two to review the case citing ways in which each of you could have made this case proceed more smoothly. I want a report from each of you and I want each of you to sign off on the other's report. Don't bother to get them typed, just fax them to me. I want to have them no later than 5 P.M. That would be EST. Understood?' Keswick answered meekly, 'Yes Sir.' There was an abrupt click. 'Ah, shit!' 

Later that Day  
City of Angels Hospital  
Room 1013 

In the first half hour, the nurses almost kicked Keswick out twice. The fucking little bastard was stubborn...was obnoxious and unfortunately, right. Keswick was in no mood to get his nose rubbed in his failure, so the 'meeting' was loud and he hadn't had his lunch yet. He had promised Molly, his wife, he'd stay on his fucking diet for his blood pressure, but those French fries smelled sooo good and the fucking little bastard was not sharing. He should have gotten his own, but he could never get away with lying to Molly. Somehow, she always knew. Should have been a FBI agent herself. As these and other worthless little thoughts jammed into a wall of hunger and fatigue, he slumped in the undersized chair beside the hospital bed and looked at the kid and bellowed. 

'OK! I was wrong...I'm sorry it resulted in you getting hurt. I didn't want to give up the paradigm we were working under and waste time and resources to run off on a wild goose chase. I don't trust you DC boys with doctorates. Academics playing at law enforcement. You did nothing to change my mind. Rushed in and took over, trashed two months of hard work with hardly looking at it and made it plain that you considered us idiots. Well, I guess we were... but...shit.' 

Mulder looked at the large man uncomfortably slumped in the chair and thought, he's not an evil person and not a bad agent. The strand they had been investigating had been logical, but should have been abandoned long before. They should have had the resources field profiler long before he was called in. That had not been Keswick's fault. He had called Quantico and had a quick telephone profile done. However, from the crime scene information it should have been referred to a field profiler. Patterson had not caught it. 

Mulder also knew that he had never been good inspiring people to go where he lead. For a Doctor of Psychology, he was a pretty poor people handler. He had a tendency to become so focused on the case hat his colleagues were just more hands to cover the work. He had never learned to 'play nice' as Reg had told him more than once. Well, a bit of patching up couldn't hurt. Keswick was not an asshole...just an overworked FBI agent who had tried to do a good job. 

Mulder bowed his head and said with a soft voice, 'I'm sorry.' 

Keswick blinked, Mulder had suddenly lost ten years and had become a lost adolescent. Body language like his thirteen year old son, Ryan, when he was found lacking in some parental expectation. Shit, he looked far too young for this kind of work. But he had done a remarkable job in spite of him. Hell, he didn't need any more quilt and he didn't particularly like suddenly feeling paternal either. 

'Ah, well, Mulder, let's get this report done before your Frosty gets here. We got a solid confession from the bastard that makes him for all seven murders and the attempted murder of Amy Garnder as well as attempted murder on a Federal Agent. No deal for this guy. Now he saids he wants to die. Well, in twenty years or so, if we get the death penalty, the government might get to stick a needle in him and wipe his sorry ass off the planet.' 

Mulder looked up, 'The death penalty is not the answer, it doesn't solve the problem of what creates people like Adam Smock.' 

Keswick sighed, 'But it does solve the problem for any future victims of his. Let's not get into this...we need to get to work. We only have an hour and I still need to get this back to the office to fax.' 

End of Two Voice Harmony 1 

* * *

Two Voice Harmony  
Chapter 2 

"Scully, like or not, I am your boss. We are going to Utah. Skinner approved the 302." Mulder held the phone away from his ear as Scully voiced her opinions about the invalid nature of the case. Once she caught her breath, Mulder jumped in with the fight number and time and hung up. His small department usually had little respect for his judgment. 

Of course, it had been Scully who ended up in the swamp in Arkansas. Mulder chuckled to himself, it was all for nothing. The information on that X-File had been false and that X-File dismissed. Scully did not seem to appreciate that even when an X-File was dismissed, the file was closed, unlike most other cases. God, she was fun. 

He'd had been less than pleased when he found out that his first underling would be a pathologist with a gun. However, she was bright and was able to spot any kind of medical fraud a mile away which saved them a lot of wasted effort. He had honestly been fooled by that idiot Cramer and his vampire bites, but Scully saw through him right away. 

Utah was a bust. Or you could to say it was a fraud. Another case closed and Mr. Calhein was on his way to prison for endangering his community. Even Sully thought the trip worthwhile which was gratifying. She had been wonderful with the local police and Mulder had been free to muck around until he solved it. This particular case had not used Scully's doctor type skills unless you count the various cuts and bruises he acquired and the stitches she had sewn into his arm and leg. 

She was back at Quantico working and he was stuck writing up the report. His head was aching and he was generally sore and not looking forward to going home to his fish. He was just feeling a bit lonesome and sorry for himself. He would have think of something to keep himself from slipping into one of his black moods. 

He finished his report and flashed it up to Skinner's office. He remembered he had tried to thank Skinner for sending him Wendy's in the hospital in L.A. Skinner had given him a quick nod and then proceeded to rake him over the coals for his behavior in L.A. Then Skinner had turned 180 degree and proceeded to commend him for his work and told him they had found a partner for him to travel with. An underling. One was all he was getting. Mulder appreciated how preposterous this was and left Skinner's office chuckling. 

He didn't like the idea at first. Sure that someone had been found to be his keeper. Even if he secretly agreed that maybe he needed one, he resented having someone around. He had enjoyed his solitude in the basement. It wasn't long until he realized he really liked her. Loved to squabble and spar with her. She was quick and had a wicked sense of humor. But even as much as he liked her, he needed his own space, and she kept getting into his. 

Then she even wanted her own desk. It would be a tight fit and he usually sprawled on the floor to work with his files. That would destroy his work area and he kept finding reasons not to find her one. 

However, when he got to work today, there were two desks. She must have found her own. Now he felt cramped. His domain had been compromised. He grabbed a pile of files to copy so he could take them home to work. It was already seve n. 

He went to the ground floor copy room and the paper jammed and he couldn't fix it. He hated machines when they didn't mindlessly work. He was never able to fix them. Irritated, Mulder gathered up his files and made his way up the fifth floor copy room. He was busy when he felt the present of another. He turned around and there was A.D. Skinner looking less than the perpetual perfection in which Mulder had always seen him. 

Skinner looked tired and his shirt sleeves were up to his elbows and his shirt tail was not perfectly tucked in. His tie was missing and his hair, what he had left, was slightly mussed. 

Mulder had never noticed how handsome the A.D. really was. He evidently put in his dues at some type of exercise machine and looked like he did weights too. He looked a lot younger and more human in non-perfection. He liked what he saw, liked it a lot. "Don't go there, Mulder." he warned himself. 

Skinner had a sheave of papers in his hand apparently intending to copy them. Skinner leaned wearily against the door jam and contemplated the pile of folders that Mulder was copying. 

"Agent Mulder, do you intend to be long?" 

Even the voice was weary. Mulder gathered up his folders and set them to one side and stepped aside. 

"None of this is critical Sir. I'm just trying to copy some files so I can work at home. Scully found a desk and now there's no room to spread out." 

Skinner lurched away from the door jam, "So she finally found one. Well good for her. You have a bit of a brat in you don't you Agent." 

"Well, Sir, I never asked for a partner, and I don't see why she needs a desk. She's got one in Quantico. It's not like she does any research. She just writes her medical reports and since we have only one computer, she has to sit at my desk. When she's at my desk I usually work on the floor. The floor is the only place I can spread out my files. There is no floor now. I miss my floor, such as it was." 

Skinner grinned in spite of himself. "If I were the department head of your department I think I might put in a requisition for a computer for her. That way I could mark my territory, at least at my desk." 

Mulder grinned back, "Think my A.D. would go for it?" 

Skinner started the coping process, "Ya, I think he might." 

Skinner looked at Mulder's pile of folders curiously, "What have you found?" 

Mulder looked at Skinner, "I'm basically still organizing, but these folders all contain disappearances of kids. It appears that every October and November for six years, children of federal workers went missing. This is the only clear pattern right now. The government workers worked in five major cities and were at all levels of security clearances. 

Every October and November for six years, 78 per cent of all child disappearances that the FBI handled were this type. And the clearance rate for these are an absolute zero." 

Skinner was stunned. "What years are you talking about?" 

"Nineteen sixty-nine through seventy-five." 

"How many kids are we talking about?" 

Thirty-nine." 

"Including your sister?" 

Mulder bent his head, "Ya." 

"I'd like to see those files myself. Lets make a two copies of each file. I'd like one set and I want to make sure we scan them into a computer and burn a couple of disc for back up copies. That is too big a coincidence to ignore. I don't like it. 

That was good work Agent Mulder, I know there are literally thousands of files that you had to look through to pull these thirty-nine. What's your next step?" 

Mulder leaned back against the wall. "Go back and see if I can interview the agents involved. Many of them are probably retired or dead but tracing them shouldn't be that hard. Then I like to go interview the families. Retrace the investigations and then see what we've got." 

Skinner nodded his head, "That's a good plan, but thirty-nine cases! I can't let you work an X-File that would take that long. Let's work it piecemeal. A bit at a time. Slowly and thoroughly between cases. After all, there is no time pressure on this one. Not any more. 

I want to help with this one. It interests me. I can't imagine that this went unnoticed by the Director or the A.D.s at the time. I have some access to the communications during any era." 

Mulder straightened up. "Thank you, Sir." 

3 Hours Later  
A.D. Skinner's Office 

Skinner and Mulder were both on the floor in the A.D.'s office with the folders spread out around them. Both were reading and sorting. 

Skinner looked up. "I don't like this. This is not normal. Maybe a case of a cyclical serial killer? Just too early for the bureau to know what was happening? What do you think?" 

"Mulder looked up, "Possible, but I don't think so. Look at the first year, 69, ten kids are taken. Five girls and five boys. In 70, only three are taken, 2 girls and one boy. In 71, 2 girls and 4 boys, in 72, 4 girls and 3 boys, in 73, 3 girls and 3 boys, in 74, 2 girls and 1 boy, in 75, 3 girls and 2 boys. A serial killer escalates, this is more like, almost like whoever it is, the kids are being taken as replacements for the original set of ten. Five girls and five boys." 

Skinner looked at Mulder, the implications of what he was saying was disconcerting. "All kids of federal government workers. Have you grafted the type of work and geographical locations yet?" 

Mulder shook his head "Not yet Sir, I was just getting started. I just got done with separating these cases from the other missing children cases. The critical inclusion factors were that the children be either the son or daughter of a federal government worker, the absence of a ransom note and that the case was closed with no result. Each case was closed automatically after seven years." 

Skinner stood up and stretched, "Let's gather all this up and grab a bit to eat. Have you been to Vickie's? It's O.K. and is open all night. We'll put this aside for now and decide how we want to work this. Agreed?" 

"Yes, Sir." 

Vickie's 10:50 PM 

Mulder had never noticed the little restaurant in a small courtyard three blocks from the bureau. Its door was open to the small courtyard and invisible from the street. The interior was bland oriental and was only large enough to set around thirty people at a time. Skinner explained that tables were put in the courtyard during the day. 

It was run by a Nam vet who married a Vietnamese woman. They specialized in Vietnamese and Thai food. Surprisingly the restaurant was half full. All suits (male and female) from the many government buildings within walking distance. 

Skinner smiled at the approach of a small Vietnamese woman and addressed her in Vietnamese. She laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "So Walter so you work late again! You bring me new customer! This is good." 

"Vickie, this is Agent Mulder. Agent Mulder this is Vickie Holmes. She and her husband and assorted children own and run the restaurant." 

Mulder looked up and said, "Nice to meet you, Vickie. Just call me Mulder." 

She nodded happily and handed them both a menu and told them that Sam would take their order. 

A couple minutes later, a handsome young man, obviously a son, came and got their orders. At his departure, Mulder turned to the A.D. and asked, "How did you find out about this place? It's great." 

Skinner answered back absently, "Oh, a friend. I got to D.C. a bit over two years ago. Been coming here regularly since. The food is good and the prices are O.K. and they stay open 24/7 for all the workaholics." 

Skinner knew he was treading far past the boundaries he usually established with his agents. However, he had the feeling the case that Mulder had dug out was going to be important. 

Skinner had felt extremely isolated since he had come to D.C. He found being an A.D. nearly always put him in an adversarial relationship with most of his colleagues who were his rank or above. Sikora, the director, was O.K. but had to keep his distance because of his position. 

Friendships with subordinate agents was unwise. He had a friendly casual friendship with Reg his D.C. Regional VC SAC. But Reg was married and had no time for a bit of companionship. But even with Reg, the fact that Skinner was his boss was an impediment. 

Skinner sorely missed just simple companionship. It would be nice to occasionally have someone to eat with. He liked Mulder. Mulder had a special... sparkle, a special something that Skinner found refreshing. He also found him exasperating at times, but never boring. He just would have to establish new boundaries. He could do that. After all, Mulder was a department head. Not merely an agent. 

It was also true that Mulder seemed to have a genuine lack of ambition. Skinner thought it was invigorating to work with someone who was not brown nosing, not maneuvering for the best position for his own purposes instead of what was best for the case. Skinner could overlook a lot and take a few headaches as long as he knew that the job came first and was the motivating determinant Mulder was pretty isolated himself. Both by his intimidating intellect and talent. It might be a good thing for both of them. 

The only complication was the attraction that Skinner felt for Mulder. But Skinner prided himself on being a disciplined person. He could handle this, control his impulses. 

They spent two hours over dinner talking and laughing. They covered a lot of topics and were enjoying themselves with an easy give and take. Each was surprised that they had so much in common. 

On the walk back to the bureau, Skinner laid down the new boundaries. Friends and colleagues outside the bureau walls. Inside, boss and subordinate, business as usual. If Mulder presumed on the friendship, it was ended. No explanations, no discussions. 

Mulder was rather taken aback at first then realized that if you held the position of A.D. you had to be careful and that your position was always precarious. Mulder agreed and they decided to meet the next weekend to work on the case. 

September 20, Friday 

Scully was happily clanking on her computer. She had been thrilled to see it sitting atop her desk. She said she could spend more time in the X-File office now that she could do her reports for Quantico here and just flash them over. It turned out she didn't have a desk at Quantico. 

She had her spotless mug, her little container of pencils and pens and her little name sign pointing in Mulder's direction. "Dr. Dana Scully". He got one too, for the express purpose of pointing it back at her. "Dr. Fox Mulder", but so far she hadn't noticed. Mulder enjoyed being irritated at her and missed her on the days when she was a Quantico. 

He was still organizing files. He had started with the most current, figuring that recent cases would have the most potential to be solved. There had been six cases that he had been able to close so far. Now he was back in the early fifties. Suddenly, he straightened. Here it was again. He excitedly started to sort files, separating any missing children of federal government workers, going as far back as it took him. 

Scully noticed his excitement. "what are you finding, Mulder?" 

Mulder made a sign for silence and continued searching. Scully had worked with him long enough to know when to wait and not take his behavior personally. She went back to her computer. 

Scully was surprised when Mulder grabbed the phone and asked to see A.D. Skinner. He nodded his head and collected the folders. "Scully, I'm going to copy these and then I'm going up to Skinner's office. Can you finish the Costin report before you go and attach an expense report for your time in Billings? I've already submitted mine. Just flash it to my computer and I'll check it and flash it to Skinner when I come back or tomorrow morning." 

Scully stood up and put her hands on her hips. "What's going on? If that's an X-File, I should be in on it?" 

Mulder glanced at her, slightly surprised that she would challenge him like this. Usually she wanted nothing to do with a regular investigation unless there were available bodies. 

"Scully, it's not really a case, not yet. I just found some interesting patterns. These date back to the late forties to the early fifties. No bodies. If you want, I can give you some research to do on these." 

Scully sat down, "No, that's O.K. But why would you think Skinner would be interested?" 

Mulder started for the door. "I need to get these copied before I meet with Skinner. I talked with him before on this pattern and he seemed interested. See you later." 

Scully went back to her report. It was sometimes difficult being the only peon in the X-Files. But it was the only way she could work in the field on both Violent Crimes and the X-Files. Working for Mulder gave her a lot of autonomy at Quantico and she liked that. 

Pathologists were usually pigeon holed and did the same routine day in and day out. Maybe making chief. She had always wanted more and the X-Files Department was the perfect vehicle. 

She hadn't expected to like Mulder but she did. He reminded her of her kid brother, Charlie. He was quirky and adolescent at times but he was a phenomenal profiler. She had been amazed at his ability on the VC cases she had accompanied him on. 

She came along on certain field cases to do the autopsies and play diplomat with the locals. A.D. Skinner had been very explicit when she was hired on that PR of the local police and even FBI office was part of her responsibly. At first she thought Mulder must be some kind of prima dona. But she quickly changed her mind the first time she watched him work a serial murder case. 

So, it was fine with her. She enjoyed it. She as content to stand back in astonishment and watch Mulder pull facts from nothing. It was remarkable to watch him pull a case together and describe, identify and explain the motive of a twisted mind. 

She didn't understand about his fascination with the X-Files. A waste of his talents in her opinion. What was the point of solving thirty year old murders. Was it just an intellectual challenge? The last case he had cleared, there was no one left alive to care. And the tabloid stuff, well most of it was pretty useless. Oh well, She finally had a desk, a computer and a place to work. 

Skinner's Office 

Mulder excitedly put the files on Skinners desk. "Here it is again. Starting in forty-nine. Six children taken. Same pattern. Three boys, three girls. In fifty, one boy, no girls. In fifty-one, two boys,1 girl. In fifty-two, 1 boy,1 girl. In fifty-three, 1 boy, no girls. In all thirteen kids. Never more than the original number of three and three. Each was the son or daughter of a federal government worker and these thirteen came from the same five cities and none of the cases were solved." 

Skinner looked quickly at the files. "We have two sets of missing children, forty-nine through fifty-three and then from sixty-nine through seventy-five. Fifty two children in all. That's a lot of parents that kept relatively quiet. This is getting weird. I don't like where this is leading." 

"I know, but nothing can really be said yet." 

Skinner nodded his head, "How far back do the X-Files go?" 

"All the way back to the beginning, you know our auspicious beginnings routing the whore houses in New Orleans. But the serious cases begin in the mid twenties. I'll go and do a sweep and see if I can pick anything up." 

Skinner looked at his desk and leaned back. "I'll be here until about seven, possibly eight. Do you want to have dinner over at Vickie's?" 

Mulder got up and gathered his own files. "Sure, just ring me and I'll walk over with you." 

Mulder entered office just to see Scully putting on her coat. "It's a bit cold out there. The weather had turned early. Where's your coat? Do you want to grab a quick dinner?" 

Mulder went and sat at his desk. "My coat is in the trunk of my car and not tonight Scully. Thanks, but I have a bit of work to do. Did you get that report finished?" 

"Yes Master." 

"Great, well, have a good weekend." 

Scully flashed him a bright smile, "You too. Try to take a break from those files. See you Monday." 

End of Two Voice Harmony 2 

* * *

Chapter 3: Two Voice Harmony  
Vickie's 7:50 PM 

Mulder swallowed a mouth full of pad Thai noodles. "I went and found one more. Nineteen forty-seven, four children were taken. Same pattern, two boys and two girls. Nothing the following year. Just the four. This is where what ever was happening started." 

Skinner rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Unbelievable, fifty-six children taken over 28 years in three distinct periods. Each period lasting longer and involving more children. What are your ideas, Mulder?" 

Mulder put down his fork. "I think that it was some sort of testing or experimentation program. I think that whoever it was started with the four children and when they didn't survive, they went back to the drawing table. Two years later, they tried again with better success. They got replacements every year when the children they had could not continue the next years experimentation. The children who were taken in the forty-nine to fifty-three group were all taken in late June and the beginning of July. A fifteen day spread. The kids taken in the sixty-nine to seventy-five group were taken in late November and early December, another fifteen day spread. I don't know why the gap between fifty-three and sixty-nine occurred. 

Maybe they were shut down and somebody restarted it or maybe it took nearly twenty years to get to the next phase. There has got to be a paper trail somewhere. 

It strikes me as something on a time table once it gets started. One other thing, all the children were pre-pubescent, ranging in age from seven to eleven. Three of the boys were within a month of their twelfth birthday. The boys were generally older than the girls. 

I've changed my mind about starting with the investigators. I think they did what they could without knowing much. I want to start with the federal workers and the families. I want to examine and cross check the children's medical records if they can be found. Check out anything that can be cross-referenced that would make them single out these children. I want to check out medical research that came out of the Nazi camps." 

Skinner had followed Mulder up until the mention of the Nazi camps. "Why Nazi medical research?" 

"Think about it. We brought over Nazi scientists and let them work with us, shared their knowledge. Nineteen forty-seven. The timing is right. What if somebody found some kind of research that they wanted to continue and knew it would not be approved? What if that somebody organized a small group to do it anyway? What if these kids were selected for some reason that facilitated that research?" Mulder turned his head away. "If I can get the medical files, get a list of the pediatricians who cared for the kids, I can look for connections. I'm going to get Scully to help." 

Skinner nodded his head. "This is looking like it could be dangerous. Have you found anything more recent than seventy-five?" 

Mulder shook his head, "No, the project has either been discontinued, shut down or they've gone on to the next phase." 

"Now there is a scary thought." Skinner leaned back, "O.K. for right now, we'll keep on fact finding. If anything develops I'll go to Sikora. He's new blood. Some remnants may still linger if this was some kind of secret project." 

Mulder nodded, "I've got some friends putting together newspaper reports and such on the kids. They're doing computer searches to locate families, and any public information that might be out there." 

"Friends?" 

"Friends that are unofficial, but know how to use their computers to find just about anything." 

"Mulder, I don't know if your scenario is accurate, but you have found something. I can't quite see your jump to assume this has some kind of medical angle, but it plays as well as anything else. Your sister is in that third group. Are you going to able to handle that? Are you going to be able to investigate your sister's disappearance like the others?" 

Mulder looked away then down and finally back up at Skinner. "I don't know. But if there is an explanation, I want to know. It seems that all my life I've wondered what happened to her. I have memories of her being taken, but they're confused and unreliable. I've tried hypnosis and whatnot, but I've never been able to find the real memories. All I know is that they took Sam and left me." 

"They?" 

"I've always felt it was a 'they'. 

Mulder's Apartment  
2:30 AM 

Mulder woke up screaming. His heart was pounding and his body was shaking in reaction. Shit. He hadn't had nightmares like this in a long time; lately it was almost every night. They weren't the profile type nightmares. These were the ones he had after Sam was taken. For years after Sam was taken. They were probably reoccurring because of the developing Fed Kid case. He sat back on his couch and willed his body to calm down. He was sweating and felt uncomfortably hot. He tried breathing exercises to help him remember the dream. Nothing. Almost nothing. 

He always woke in a panic. He could remember the feeling of being restrained, of a sense of being in some medical type place. He shook his head. He had to get out of here. He grabbed his running shoes and headed for the door. Running always calmed him down. It was lightly raining and cold, but to his overheated skin it felt good. He was about three miles away from his apartment when he decided to turn around. He had just made the turn when his feet were knocked out from under him. 

There were two men. After a brief scuffle, Mulder found himself firmly restrained against a wall. A man walked up but was careful to keep out of his line of sight. Mulder saw a plumb of cigarette smoke drift into the air, illuminated by the weak street lights. 

"A voice quietly spoke to him, "Agent Mulder, leave it all alone. It could be very bad for your father. But maybe you don't care about that. Just play with your monsters. Leave the events of the past in the past. There is no good that can come of any of this." 

Mulder tried to struggle and was further restrained. "Who are you? What happened to Sam?" The last thing Mulder remembered was another voice. 

"We should have killed him years ago." 

Georgetown Medical Center  
4:18 AM 

Skinner hurried down the hospital hallway towards the emergency cubicle where the screaming was coming from. Before he got there a harried young doctor emerged and called over to a nurse to call for a psychiatric evil. The doctor started to move away and Skinner stopped him. 

"Doctor, I'm A.D. Skinner and is that Agent Mulder in there? What happened?" The doctor stopped, "I'm Dr. Kutler. The man in there had no identification. A nurse remembered him. He was in here with some injuries last month. We pulled his chart and called you. I hope that the nurse was right. If not, I'm sorry." 

The screaming from the cubicle had subsided to a sustained whimper. Animal like. Skinner moved forward slid the curtain back about an inch and took a peek. It was Mulder. He was in four point restraints. He was visually shaking. Skinner had not seen a man in such a state since Nam. His stomach dropped. He clamped down on the urge to go to Mulder. He carefully pulled the curtain back in place. 

Skinner turned on the doctor, "Doctor what happened?" 

Doctor Kutler had not been too impressed with the slightly disheveled man in jeans and pea coat until this moment. His demeanor had changed and he was every inch FBI, an A.D. 

Doctor Kutler stood straighter and said, "Looks like he was running and got mugged. He was unconscious and slightly hypothermic when they brought him in. He only had shorts and a tee-shirt on. Probably been lying on the sidewalk at Clark and Emerson nearly an hour before a patrol car stopped to check him out. He had some contusions and some ecchymosis, ah I mean bruising. When he regained consciousness, he went crazy. We couldn't control him. When we finally got him restrained he started screaming and nothing we tried helped, just seemed to agitate him more. I just gave him a sedative. You heard me order a psychiatric eval on him." 

Skinner nodded. "Listen-hold off on the eval. I think I can calm him down." Doctor Kutler nodded, he knew such an evaluation was not good for an agent's career. Knew the FBI had their own internal mental health care system. If the A.D. could deal with the guy, all the better. 

Skinner came into the cubicle and took a seat and spoke quietly. "Mulder, everything is O.K. Hush now. I want to get you out of here. Hush." 

"Skinner?" Mulder responded in a broken voice. "Where am I?" Mulder was stuttering and shaking. 

"You're at Georgetown Emergency. What happened? Do you remember?" 

"Ya, not here." Mulder began to fight against the restraints, "Unhook me! Get these fucking things off of me" There were tear tracks down Mulder's cheeks. Mulder's voice was still stuttering and had a plaintive hysterical edge to it. 

Skinner quickly unfastened the restraints. Mulder curled on his side in a fetal position. He was still shaking slightly and Skinner looked around for something to cover him with. He grabbed a warming blanket from a cabinet and turned back to Mulder and covered him with it and then bent so that he could speak softly near Mulder's ear. 

"O.K. I'm going to find the doctor. Try to stay quiet. I'll be right back." Mulder reached out his hand. Skinner took it and felt Mulder squeeze. Mulder didn't let go and showed no indication of letting go in the near future. Mulder's shaking finally diminished and Skinner nearly didn't hear Mulder's whispered words as he drifted into sleep. "Walter, please don't let them take me again." 

Skinner's Apartment 5:30 AM 

Skinner checked on Mulder again. He had laid him out on his couch. Mulder was still sleeping off the sedative. Skinner had help getting Mulder into his car but once home he had to resort to using a fireman's carry to get Mulder up to his condo. He had gently jostled Mulder into a pair of his sweats, A Tee-shirt and a pair of thick socks. 

Skinner tucked the blanket in once again and slightly rearranged the pillow. There was no more fussing he could do. He went to start a pot of coffee and came back. Checked on Mulder again. He then went over to a shelve and lit three candles he had there and turned off the lamp in the corner of the room. He settled himself on the floor at Mulder's head. Nothing to do now but wait. Skinner had always lit candles to comfort himself. He had grown up in a children's home in Michigan. A Catholic facility for three hundred at risk boys. He had been raised there from the time he was three until he graduated high school. 

An old great aunt had begged for him to be admitted. She had been sick and could no longer take care of him. Aunt Sarah had loved him and had not wanted to see him end up in foster homes. She had faithfully visited him twice a week for three years before she died. As his six year old heart grieved, Mother John ( the nuns there were call addressed as 'mother') had told him about heaven and explained that the smoke from candles carried his love up to his Aunt Sarah. 

All through his days at Villa Cabrini Home for Boys he had stolen little candles from the church and had sat in the various secluded places he could find to watch the candle burn and bring a bit of comfort to his soul. Even now, he preferred candle light to any other. 

Skinner looked at Mulder's face in the dim flickering of the candles. He finally acknowledged to himself that he had passed from lust to love in the last five weeks. 

Their dinners at Vickie's and the time they spent together had breached his defenses. There was an odd sense of peace about that. He watched Mulder's face and reached out a hand to lightly stroke Mulder's hair. 

* * *

Mulder woke to someone lightly stroking his hair. It was nice and soothing. He didn't know where he was and didn't want to open his eyes to find out. It was too much trouble. When the stroking stopped, Mulder did open his eyes to see Skinner's face close by. There was no mistaking the expression there. Love. Mulder blinked, hoping he was not dreaming. That particular expression had never been directed at him. It was still there. Without thinking, he reached out to touch that face. He held his hand against Skinner's cheek and Skinner closed his eyes and covered Mulder's hand with his. 

Mulder watched Skinner with wonder. He never suspected that Skinner would be able to return his feelings. Mulder had started to fall in love with Skinner while he was in the hospital in L.A. Despite the steel edged persona, the man had a depth of kindness in him that was wonderful. Mulder had watched and admired him. He knew that unrequited love was the pits and tried to talk himself out of it. 

There had been no way to avoid it, not after the copy room. In that copy room, a full measure of good old fashioned lust was added to the pot. The time they had spent together had cemented Mulder's feelings for Skinner, but he had never dared to hope that anything would come of it. He was grateful for the friendship that Skinner offered. Now unbelievably, here was Walter, as he had secretly called him, within reach. 

Mulder gently pulled his hand away and started to sit up. Skinner hastily got up and started to rearrange the bedding to assist Mulder. Mulder grinned at the A.D. turned nurse's aid. Once Mulder got settled, he reached out for Skinner and sat him down beside him. Skinner looked at him expectedly and a bit uncertainly. 

Mulder wanted to reassure Skinner quickly, so he grabbed one of Skinner's hands between both of his. Skinner looked down at his encased hand. Mulder took his right hand away and very gently lifted Skinner's face and leaned in and brushed his lips against Skinner's. 

Skinner's insides were quaking. It was wonderful and terrifying that this was happening. Skinner had no intention of letting this miracle pass him by. Skinner responded to the kiss and lifted his other arm to pull Mulder closer and deepen the kiss. 

Needing to catch his breath and slow his heart down, Skinner broke the kiss and held Mulder's face between his hands and peppered his face with light kisses, finally he bent his head down and leaned it against Mulder's forehead. "Are you sure you want to do this?" 

Mulder had his hands at Skinner's waist and gave Skinner a small squeeze. "Oh ya. What are we talking about? A night, a fling, a life?" 

Skinner softly chuckled and pulled his head back and let go of Mulder's head, put his arms around Mulder's back, pulled him close and whispered in Mulder's ear. "Exclusive. Forever." 

Mulder nodded his head against Skinner's shoulder. "Ya. Sounds good." He laid his head on Skinner's shoulder and snuggled against him. Soon the sedative won out and Mulder was asleep. 

Skinner felt Mulder fading into sleep. God, how precious he was. The sedative must still be working. He frowned, maybe it would not be a bad idea to have Agent Scully have a look at him. Shit. He still didn't know what happened last night. Why the hell was Mulder running at three in the morning? Skinner held the sleeping form in his arms a bit tighter. Skinner dozed and came awake to see the front room filled with light. He glanced at the wall clock and saw that it was a bit past seven. Mulder was still deeply asleep. 

Scully's Apartment  
Saturday 7:20 AM 

Scully reached in the direction of the ringing phone, made a few attempts to find the phone before she managed to grab it. She turned over and put it up to her ear without opening her eyes. Maybe she wouldn't have to open her eyes. Maybe it was a wrong number. Maybe it wouldn't be Mulder with airline tickets. 

At the sound of Skinner's voice, her eyes flew open and she sat up. Her brain was still not working. "Sorry Sir. What happened? What do you want me to do? 

Mulder's Apartment   
Saturday 8:45 AM 

Scully was not happy about having her weekend trashed. She had already spoken to Dr. Kutler and found out what kind and how much sedative he had used. She was surprised. It was a lot of a pretty strong type. She was not too happy that they had released him in that state. She then had called to reassure Skinner that Mulder would probably sleep on and off all day. That he would be groggy and lethargic for the next twelve hours or so. 

The supper had not been thrilled at her early morning call, but had the key ready when Scully arrived. Scully made her way along the dingy hallway to number 42. She let herself in and looked around. The apartment appeared small and on the dark side. She cautiously walked in and stopped, alarmed. At the end of the front room, under a window was a desk. There was a dust free spot where there had apparently been a computer tower. 

The monitor was still there, the keyboard and the printer but no computer tower. She shook her head. She was over reacting. Maybe Mulder had it in for repairs. She'd ask. She carefully turned around to see if there were any indications of a break in. She didn't see anything. She sighed, there didn't seem to be anything amiss. 

She confidently opened the door to the bedroom and gasped. It wasn't a bedroom, it was a storage room. There were boxes of files, assorted junk from sports equipment to broken lamps. There was no way to enter the room without crawling over stacks of boxes. Oh well, she was in jeans. 

There was no bed, no dresser, the closet was filled with back issues of magazines and old text books. There were stacks of video tapes and what looked like a collection of seashells. Where the hell were his clothes? Maybe this was a two bedroom apartment after all. 

After a fruitless look for another bedroom, Scully started opening every door. She found a coat closet in the hall and found his suits, a few casual shirts and pants. Of course, that's not what she needed. She decided to use a plastic bag from the kitchen to put the dirty clothes in that she had found in the bathtub. She'd take those if she had to. There were some tee-shirts, a couple pairs of jeans and boxers. 

With a sense of futility she decided to open the cupboards. Under the sink in the bathroom she found, neatly stacked, a pile of boxers and socks. She took out one of the paper sacks she brought and put in three of each. This of course proved Mulder was crazy. But she guessed it worked if one didn't have a bedroom. Now where would he tuck shirts, jeans and such. 

It was evident he slept on the couch. A pillow and coverlet were left in disarray there. He had one end table and one coffee table. Both had cabinet like fronts. She opened the end table and was rewarded with a stack of neatly folded tee-shirts and a sweat shirt. She grabbed the sweat shirt and a couple shirts. Next she opened the coffee table. Yup! That's where the jeans, shorts and sweats were stored. She added a couple pairs of sweats and a pair of jeans to her collection. Mulder certainly marched to his own drummer. One that apparently had only had one drumstick. 

She dropped the sack of dirty clothes back into the bathtub and returned to the front room. Oh, the fish, she almost forgot. She approached the fish tank and looked around for the week long feeder blocks. Luckily they were right where most sane people would place them, right next to the tank. Maybe there was hope for Mulder yet. Next, she went to the fridge. Skinner had told her that Mulder would be staying with him at least three days. Scully was pretty sure Mulder would be back at his place long before that. His injuries didn't sound that bad. The fridge was pretty empty. Nothing to spoil except the milk. She dumped it and rinsed out the carton. She gathered up the bags and looked around one more time. Satisfied, she left and headed for A.D. Skinner's condo. 

Skinner's Apartment  
Saturday 10:30 A.M. 

Mulder was asleep again. Skinner was alarmed when he heard Mulder's account of the attack on him. He was also concerned about the nightmares that had driven Mulder out into the night. When he closed his eyes he could still hear Mulder screaming in the hospital. Skinner had Mulder's head in his lap and the phone at his side. He had made a number of calls to get a covert investigation started and put some protection in place for Mulder. He had also set up a meeting with Sikora. The director was currently out of town so it would have to be later in the week. 

How had these people known Mulder was investigating? They had to be connected to the bureau, They had access. However, it was clear that they didn't know about his own involvement with the case or else he would have been warned off too. Or maybe the assholes didn't have the clout to hassle an A.D. Backtracking, Skinner was convinced that Mulder's computer had been accessed. Really, there didn't seem any other way. Skinner didn't want company techs to check it out. Maybe Mulder's friends could do the work. Until Skinner knew where the threat was coming from he intended to be very careful. 

Skinner was started out his thoughts at a knock at the door. He tenderly replaced Mulder's head on the pillow and went to answer the door. Scully bustled into the room struggling with the sacks of clothes and her medical bag. She dumped the sacks on the floor and still holding the medical bag, looked up at Skinner. "Where's Mulder?" 

Skinner looked down at his agent who appeared to be twelve and pointed over to the couch. She shook her head and said, "Where else." 

She did an examination as best she could. He woke up once, and seeing her, grinned and went back to sleep. She turned to Skinner, "He's fine. A bit bruised and has a few cuts. I don't understand why they gave him such a strong sedative. The doctor was evasive when I asked. When this stuff wears off, he should be fine. You don't have to keep him here. He doesn't need looking after." 

"Agent Scully, he was attacked and warned off a case last night." 

Scully glared at the A.D. It was somewhat ineffective because Skinner was looking at Mulder. Scully put a bit of venom in her voice, "What case would that be, Sir?" 

Skinner seemed oblivious to her displeasure, still looking at Mulder, Skinner answered, "Agent Mulder dug up some very troubling cases in the X-Files that seem to be connected. Up to now, it's been inference and conjecture. Research has been slow and difficult because of the age of the cases and because a lot of stuff is missing. We've both been working it between active cases for the last few weeks." 

Skinner lifted his gaze and looked at Scully. "However, last night it became an official case. It's an "E" for now." At Scully's questioning expression, Skinner continued. "It's got to be an Eyes Only operation. The SUBs had access. They must routinely monitor who knows how many agent's computers and who knows for what. 

It looks like they might have got the information off of Mulder's hard drive from his computer at work. It'll be a couple days before we can confirm that, we have to go outside the company techs. I've confirmed that the original files are missing from the X-Files office. Director Sikora knows I've requested a covert operation and okayed it. He doesn't know the details but I have a meeting with him next Thursday when he returns from California." 

Scully started, "Sir, when I was at Mulder's I saw that his computer tower is missing. There was no sign of theft or forced entry. I thought that he had it out for repairs." 

Skinner shook his head. "No, they took it. They don't know about me and that we made back-up copies. Agent Scully, there might be a medical aspect to this case, but no real bodies. Just records. Are you in or out?" 

Scully headed for the coffee pot, "I'm in, Sir. Can you debrief me now? 

End of Two Voice Harmony 3 

* * *

Chapter 4: Two Voice Harmony 

Mulder woke up feeling stiff and grubby. He was still on Skinner's couch. He sat up and looked around. Skinner was sprawled across a lounge chair. God, he looked cute. Could that possibly be the Skinner he saw at work? With his glasses off, he lost most of the harshness he cultivated for the job. Mulder looked around and spotted the clock. Four-fifteen. Almost time for breakfast. He needed the bathroom but couldn't quite break his gaze away from the sleeping Skinner. Had they really made agreed to a serious relationship? God, he hoped so. 

Just so typical of his life. He had committed his life to a not yet lover and had not been able to keep his eyes open long enough to consummate it. He stretched, good lord he was ripe. He got up and saw a pile of his clothes on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. How had Skinner managed to do this? The guy always made sure you had what you needed. He went over to collect some clean clothes and was happy to see that his shaving kit was there too. Now if he could only find the bathroom. 

Skinner woke up to the sound of a shower running. He glanced over to the couch and confirmed that Mulder was awake. He tossed off his coverlet and reached for his glasses. He might as well get cleaned up too. He folded Mulder's coverlet and put it to his face. It smelled of Mulder and Skinner breathed in deeply. His insides were acting up again. What the hell was he doing? He placed the blanket on top of the pillow. Maybe he was starting to live. Skinner pulled back his shoulders and took a deep breath then trotted up the stairs to the upstairs bathroom. 

Mulder returned to the front room and was mildly disappointed to find Skinner gone. He glanced up the staircase as he heard a shower upstairs starting. Was it a dream? Would the cold reality of day annihilate the promises of the night before? Mulder started to feel anxious. What to do? He ran upstairs, he was not about to let Walter have second thoughts. 

Mulder entered Skinner's room. It was a comfortable room with a huge unmade bed, probably left when he went to rescue him. There was a bookcase and lots of books, chock full of mysteries, science fiction, history and biographies. The furniture was early Salvation Army and a TV sat upon an ancient dresser. He had a map of Michigan on the wall and various lists. Lists of books, videos, people and what looked like to-do lists. One was even a list of court cases complete with judgments, judges and courts. Post-it heaven. Mulder took all this in quickly and started shedding his clothes. He had not quite made it to his boxes when Skinner emerged from the bathroom in all his natural glory. Mulder, who had just shed his socks, was bent over, looked up and grinned, "I'm awake now." 

The look on Skinner's face made Mulder's insides clench with need. He finished chucking his boxers and by the time he stood up, Skinner was all ready pulling him in for a kiss. 

* * *

Walter didn't know how they ended up on the bed. Mulder's body was pressed down against his and it was electric. Walter started to thrust his hips up. He reached down to hold Mulder's hips and felt their erections colliding with each other. God, his body was already starting to gather up and zing toward orgasm. 

Suddenly, Walter felt Mulder break the kiss pull away from the full body contact. Walter moaned and started reaching for Mulder, but Mulder captured his hands in his and pressed them with his body weight to either side of Walter's head. 

Mulder then proceeded to kiss and lick his neck, his ears his face. Mulder slowly and tenderly moved down to Walter's shoulders and clavicle. His tongue traced the bones lovingly and then crossed Walter's chest, gently nipping at the hair until he found a nipple. Mulder took his time to explore it licking and gently nipping. Then he kissed his way over to the other nipple where he lingered until Walter was moaning incoherently. Mulder let go of Walter's hands and wrapped each of Walter's hand's fingers around a spindle in the headboard. 

Mulder, a bit breathless, ordered Walter, "Hold on lover, don't let go." Mulder kissed, licked and nibbled his way down Walter's sternum and continued till he was dipping his tongue into Walter's navel. He continued down but avoided Walter's straining cock. He went down to Walter's inner thighs and licked his way up to Walter's balls. 

Mulder sucked one into his mouth and rolled it around. Walter was unconsciously spreading his legs and the volume of his moans was escalating. Mulder sensed Walter was close and reached up his hand to clamp his fingers around the base of Walter's cock to stop him from coming. Walter's "Oh, God" was nearly screamed. 

Mulder released one of Walter's balls and gave some attention to Walter's other one. God how he loved doing this. The taste and feel of Walter was exquisite and his own body was singing. Mulder had to slow his breathing, he didn't want to come yet, just ride the edge. Mulder started licking that sensitive strip of skin between Walter's balls and his anus. 

Walter was bucking now, but Mulder was partially lying across his lower torso. Mulder's one hand was still holding the base of Walter's cock when he started rimming Walter. Walter was screaming now and writhing and Mulder wasn't letting go. Mulder withdrew his tongue and then quickly licked his fingers and inserted one into Walter and started to carefully finger fuck him. In a short time, Mulder added another finger and tried to carefully stretch Walter. Walter was begging now. Mulder withdrew his fingers and turned and started licking and sucking Walter's cock. God, it was beautiful and perfect for what Mulder liked to do. He loved to suck cock and jam it down his throat. It didn't work if the cock was too thick or too long. Walter looked like he was just about perfect. 

Mulder started sucking in earnest, still with his fingers clamped around the b ase of Walter's cock. Suddenly, Mulder deep throated Walter and released his cock at the same time. Walter came almost instantaneously and nearly coming off the bed. 

Mulder managed to hang on and felt a stab of intense joy as he felt Walter's cock spasm in his throat. When Walter's cock stilled, Mulder gently withdrew his mouth. Mulder scooted up until he lay three quarters on his lover with his head on Walter's shoulder. It was a couple minutes before Walter let go of the headboard and put his arms around Mulder. 

Walter had never come like that. Didn't even know it was possible to come like that. The world could not be the same. He knew he wouldn't ever be the same. Might never move again. 

After a few minutes, Mulder realized that Walter was able to think again, he turned his head and whispered in Walter's ear. 

"Walter, you are so beautifully passionate. You are absolutely magnificent when you come. I want to see you when I'm in you" Mulder started moving and Walter felt Mulder's erection rubbing against the side of his hip. 

"Walter, please I need to be in you." 

Walter turned his head to kiss Mulder giving his consent. 

Mulder was shaking, "Walter, stuff. You got the stuff." 

Walter had to think. Stuff? Oh, the condoms and lube. Oh shit. "In the bathroom, Mulder." 

Mulder groaned and rolled off the bed and stumbled to the bathroom. He looked around and franticly groped among the various items on the counter, then pulled open the medicine cabinet. Eureka! He grabbed the condoms and lube and raced back to the bed. 

Walter had turned on his stomach and had even shoved a pillow under his hips. The sight of Walter almost pushed Mulder over. Walter was so stunning. Mulder fumbled with the condom, but got it on and then warmed the lube and coated himself and then set to stretching Walter. Mulder leaned in and kissed Walter's back and moved down until he was kissing and licking Walter's splendid ass. Mulder pulled back and tried to breathe. He needed to slow down and enter Walter carefully. 

Shaking slightly, Mulder reached for Walter's hips to anchor him and started pressing against Walter's anus. He slowly pushed in and got past the ring of muscle and stopped to let Walter get used to him. Mulder was not prepared for Walter to push back against him. In a flash, Mulder was all the way in. 

Walter's voice floated over his shoulder, "Come on lover. MOVE!" Mulder didn't need anymore encouragement. He was completely out of control, moving completely by age old instinct. Mulder rammed into Walter and Walter was with him all the way, matching Mulder thrust for thrust. 

It was too intense to last long, soon Mulder's rhythm became even more frenzied and erratic. An orgasm suddenly swamped him and he arched screaming as he came. He collapsed on Walter's back unable to move. Eventually, Mulder carefully slid out of Walter and rolled off the condom and dropped it by the side of the bed. Walter had already turned over and Mulder crawled into his arms and settled in. 

"Walter, I knew it would be fantastic with you, but that was beyond belief! I think we're compatible. Did you know?..." 

Mulder kept prattling on. Unbelievable, Mulder was dreamily lecturing on the statistics of compatibility in committed homosexual relationships in some South American tribe. Mulder contentedly talked himself to sleep in about three minutes. 

Walter chuckled. Only Mulder. There was not any question that they were compatible. Walter loved the weight of Mulder lying in his arms. Walter bent his head and gave Mulder a kiss on the top of his head. So South America had committed homosexual, compatible couples. Nice to know. Walter sighed contentedly and marveled how Mulder and he were a matched pair. 

Because of Walter's appearance and demeanor, most of the guys at the clubs he had gone to casual hook-ups assumed he was a top. He had usually ended up on top. It was ok, but what he loved, what he fantasized about, was to be made love to. He loved to be fucked and apparently Mulder loved giving what Walter loved to get. That was unexpected. Walter would have been satisfied no matter what they had ended up doing. He just wanted Mulder any way he could get him. But this was perfection. 

* * *

Walter woke quickly and rolled off the bed and reached for his gun. He came back to a defensive position before he realized that what had woken him up was Mulder, screaming. The jostling of the bed woke up Mulder and he scrambled out of bed. He scuttled to a wall then sat against it. His eyes were closed and he was panting. His body was drenched in sweat and he was visually trembling. 

"What the hell?" Walter got up and carefully approached Mulder. Even after Mulder had told him that he was having a recurring nightmare that he started having after his sister was taken, Skinner had no idea that they were this bad. Walter sat down near Mulder, but decided to let him calm down first. Decided to wait him out until Mulder could tell him about it. Mulder opened his eyes and looked over into the worried face of his lover. 

"Sorry." 

Walter, reached out a hand to squeeze Mulder's shoulder. 

"Nothing to be sorry about." 

Mulder bowed his head and laid it on his knees. "I am so tired of this. I can never remember anything!" 

"Don't try. Let's get you into the shower. You'll feel better." Walter glanced at his alarm clock. It was nearly three O'clock in the afternoon. "I'm starved. How about you?" 

Mulder stood up and rubbed a hand over his face. "Ya, I could eat." He started for the bathroom. Walter stood and watched him not sure how to comfort him. As Mulder reached the door, Walter hurried over to him and seized his hand and turned Mulder around pulling him in for a hug. "I love you. We'll find some answers. Just don't forget I love you." Mulder nodded and relaxed in Walter's arms. 

* * *

Scully's apartment  
4:18 PM 

Scully got up and stretched. She had just finished a quick read-through of all fifty-six files. Skinner had given her two discs that were filled with the files. She wasn't convinced about Mulder's idea about experimentation. That was perhaps more twilight zone than real world. However, something weird had been going on. Generational serial killers? 

Skinner had said he wanted her to check out the medical aspects of the case. There really were not many medical aspects except Mulder's contention of medical experiments. Well, where to begin? 

Scully decided that birth certificates would be the logical place. All the children were born in Connecticut, Delaware, Maryland, Massachusetts, and California. Let's see how did it break down? Nine children in Connecticut, six children in Delaware, three in Maryland, seven in Massachusetts and thirty-one in California. 

She picked up the list of the seven children that went missing in Massachusetts. Samantha Ann Mulder: age 8. Poor Mulder! He'd had just turned twelve when his sister was taken. No wonder he was a bit crinkled around the edges. 

Scully sat back down and started to e-mail her requests for the birth certificates using the FBI authorization number Skinner had given her, rather than her own. 

* * *

Skinner's Apartment  
Saturday 6:30 PM 

Mulder was still on Skinner's computer in Skinner's study, conferring with his non-official friends. They were going in to the Hoover tomorrow as electricians, undercover, with the authorization of Director Sikora himself. Their job would be to trace the monitoring of Mulder's computer and see if any other computers were involved. 

The Director had given Skinner full power to deal with the situation. Sikora had minimal information because of a lack of secured communication. However, he demonstrated his trust in Skinner by giving him anything Skinner deemed necessary. Director Sikora knew only that there was a serious internal security breach and that an agent had been warned off a case and physically attacked. 

Skinner was also in his study putting the finishing touches on the operation and calling in a few friends who were outside the bureau to be available for contingencies. He had someone drive and park Mulder's car to National's long term parking and buy one open round trip ticket had been bought to Boston. A friend in the Boston police department would verify that Mulder had checked in as required by regulations. This friend in the Boston police department would also report back to Skinner if any inquiries were made and start a trace on the call. 

Mulder had just gotten off the computer when Skinner put down the phone. Mulder had heard Skinner's side of the many conversations and now turned around to Skinner. 

"It sounds like you're putting together a small army." Skinner leaned back, "We might need one. I don't know, but it's prudent to be prepared. The Director is more than pissed that there was a security breach on his watch and he's going to be livid when he finds out that these assholes have had access to our computer system." 

Mulder was observing Skinner in full A.D. Mode, Where was that wonderful submissive lover from last night? Hidden away like a treasure. Who would have ever thought that Skinner had that in him? 

Mulder had been surprised that Skinner had let him to take the lead. Mulder had always been aggressive during sex. He didn't consider himself a very good bottom, but for Walter, he was willing to be anything. Not that he didn't enjoy being fucked and blown but when he had bottomed, he had always ended up struggling and made whoever was topping work for it, or end up on the bottom. All he had ever had were casual hoop-ups. Except Daniel, whom he had loved. Who he knew was not good for him. Who he knew didn't love him. Daniel had been one of Mulder's undergraduate professors and had approached Mulder after he'd had completed his course. 

It was Mulder's first year at Oxford and he was only sixteen. Daniel had been uncompromisingly dominant. Daniel had liked it rough. Liked how Mulder would fight him during sex. Mulder would have preferred a more loving relationship. He always ended up submitting to Daniel and paid for the sex with nightmares. Mulder didn't care. He was so lonely. Needed someone so badly that he was willing to do anything Daniel wanted. Had fooled himself into thinking that it was only Daniel's stern character that made it hard for him to express how he felt about him. 

But, Daniel didn't love him. Daniel had never invited him to spend the night. Daniel had never been romantic and would never kiss him or allow Mulder to kiss him. Daniel had never tolerated him expressing himself sexually. However, Daniel would talk to him and spend time with him affectionately patting him on the back. He was Mulder's only 'yes' in his life at the time. The affair only lasted about nine months. Daniel liked to move on regularly. Daniel dumped Mulder with little ceremony and moved to a new boy. Mulder was devastated. He had thrown his heart into the relationship, always making excuses for Daniel to himself. He was convinced that Daniel would come to love him and not be able to live without him. The breakup was right before his seventeenth birthday. 

After that, Mulder had become promiscuous, and more and more, he took the dominant role. With Skinner, he had been willing to take the submissive role because he wanted Skinner. He had just assumed. But last night he hadn't been thinking of anything but getting close to Skinner. Mulder had done what came naturally and Skinner had not stopped him, in fact, seemed to love it. Walter had been unbelievably wonderful. Go figure. Now here he was watching his lover in full Alpha mode. What a turn on. Incredible. Love. He was loved and God he loved that dynamo who was pulling the operation together like a wizard. 

Skinner was talking and Mulder realized that he had been day dreaming and not listening. Skinner looked a bit peeved. "Agent Mulder are you all right? We need to finalize this portion of our response to this situation." "I'm sorry, Sir. My thoughts were just going down another tangent." 

* * *

The old man sat with a pipe wedged firmly between his teeth. The room was stale and dim. The over sized furniture had an air of decay. He contemplated the man who stood before him. 

The old man's raspy voice dipped in contempt. "Why didn't you kill the fucking bastard? What you did will only get him more interested in what he found. We don't have the contacts we used to nor the ability to control events. You gave him a lead. You mentioned his father. What the hell did you think you were doing?" 

The tall, thin man inhaled his cigarette deeply and exhaled. "Maybe reeling him in. He still carries the enzyme. He's curious, even obsessive about his sister. He'll go to his father and ask. I warned Bill. We can use Fox's pathetic need for approvable." 

The old man took the pipe out his mouth. "The enzyme is useless to us. We can't extract it from him. You assume a lot based on his psychological testing scores. They looked quite good." 

The tall man smiled. "We may find a way to extract the enzyme at a later date. As for the tests, Fox had learned to manipulate the scoring by the time he took them for the FBI. I'm looking at the scores from Oxford when he was eighteen. He's still the same. Swings between being celibate to being wildly promiscuous. He's never had a relationship besides that psycho at Oxford. He is socially isolated for the most part. He has no close friends. He's vulnerable and maybe, over time, we can change his ideas about right and wrong. We could use him inside the FBI. Kill him later if he becomes a problem." 

"Skinner took him home from the hospital. He could still be there, staying in Skinner's condo." 

"Maybe not. We don't have the people for surveillance like we used to, but Fox's computer has been reported stolen by Fox to the local police. I have a copy of the report. Todd checked the place and it appears that Fox packed a small amount of clothes and his car is gone. He might have gone to the Vineyard. I've called Bill. Or he might have gone off by himself this weekend to lick his wounds. Either way, he'll try to deal with this alone. The attack was officially reported as a mugging. Fox doesn't trust anybody and he will not have shared what he found. Even if he decides to go to Skinner, now he has no proof. Skinner is one cautious bastard and he's a boy scout. He won't muck around without proof. Our source says he was pissed when Fox was assigned to him and has pretty much stayed that way." 

The old man nodded. "All right, but stay on it. We can still be hurt. We're only six months away from trying again. We've gathered in all the data we lost in seventy-five when Kurt destroyed it and killed himself. The rotten bastard. Twenty-five years! I won't survive another set back and I intend to survive." 

The tall man nodded and took another drag on his cigarette, thinking once the project was completed he would make sure the old man didn't survive. But for now the old man's money was the main financial engine pushing the project. The old man was right about one thing. Damn Kurt Keizer, the rotten little bastard of a scientist who suddenly found a conscience, who single handedly shut down the project on the brink of success. 

End of Two Voice Harmony 4 

* * *

Chapter 5 

The Biltmore Resort  
Room 481  
Saturday afternoon  
Phoenix, Arizona 

John Sikora prowled the hotel room, he couldn't believe he had been stuck in Phoenix while his bureau was being compromised. The earliest he could leave was after his key note address this evening. He had it all set. After the mandatory chit chat Sid was secretly flying him out from the Scottsdale Airport to Baltimore and then driving him to Badger's condo. 

Sidney Stein, was one of his security people. He had known Sid since Nam and was one of a handful of people he trusted implicitly. Sid had been wounded in Nam and had come back without his right arm. He was left-handed, so he wore only a simple prosthesis that made an unexpected and handy weapon when he needed it. 

The conference ended Wednesday afternoon and Sid's wife Dot and his own wife Laura would play the "Oh, you just missed the Director" ploy. They had done it before and it was quite effective. No one would realize he was gone. He didn't want to alert the SUBs that they were aware of their activities by rushing back. 

He couldn't imagine what Mulder had found in that pile of X-File debris which could uncover an internal breach of security at the bureau that had Badger so apprehensive. Badger was not a man to over react. Sikora walked out to the balcony and shook his head in frustration. He had to get out of here! 

Thank God, Badger was handling this. Badger was another of his men from Nam that he trusted without reservation. Sikora knew that the young A.D. had an inflexible core of integrity and was tenacious as the animal he was nicknamed after. He had more then demonstrated the ability to manage anything thrown his way. Well, almost anything. Sikora knew that supervising Mulder hadn't been a picnic, but Skinner was showing his usual skill. 

Sikora knew when he assigned Mulder to Skinner that he was playing with fire. Sikora was well aware of both of their sexual preferences. Eight years ago when the bureau started looking into Mulder's background for recruitment, they had almost dismissed him out of hand. 

Mulder was brilliant and had a natural attitude for profiling. He had been mentioned to Sikora by Senator Calihan and Sikora had been interested. Mulder had been twenty and had just started on his doctorate at Oxford. He was also fucking every male in sight that would let him. However, Dr. Grabbowski had pointed out that it was a controlled promiscuity. Mulder only indulged in this behavior on weekends. Mulder didn't let his drives interfere with his studies. 

Mulder's psychological tests two years before, which were conducted by Oxford, were not promising. However, it was learned that Mulder was still smarting after a break-up. Dr. Grabbowski convinced Sikora to request Oxford to retest him and send them the results. 

The later sets of tests had shown Mulder to be adequately stable with a core of toughness. He wouldn't have any trouble with the psychological testing at the bureau. Mulder at that point still had two and a half years to go before he could get his doctorate. The last year of obtaining the degree was a clinical internship. That is when the bureau approached him. 

It had turned out well until Sikora had found out what Patterson had been doing. Patterson was jealous and at the same time wanted the clearance rates and glory of successfully catching a high profile killer. Patterson had been destroying Mulder by overwork. The man was a real piece of work and Sikora would've liked to have gotten rid of him. Unfortunately, Patterson was too well connected to do it easily. 

The bureau did yet another psychological test and found Mulder stressed and shaky. Mulder had lived like a monk during his four years with Patterson. The guy didn't have time for weekend adventures. Sikora had to pull Mulder, but he didn't want to lose him. After talking to the young man, Sikora knew what carrot to dangle. The X-Files. The power game with Patterson hadn't been pleasant but even Patterson had to bow to the Director's wishes. 

Since Mulder had been working the X-Files and VCU, spot surveillance had indicated that Mulder had settled into about a six week pattern of going out to a club to pick up some guy. He was discreet and knew how to handle himself. It was too soon to put Mulder through more psychological testing but his behavior seemed well within the normal range. Of course, Mulder was going to gay clubs which made it riskier, but he had the sense to go to Boston or Baltimore. 

As for the Badger, Sikora knew he kept a much tighter reign on himself. Badger was unaware that Sikora knew of his sexual proclivities. He had first met Skinner in Nam. Skinner had been a raw recruit. Eighteen years old and full of naive patriotism. A tall gangly kid in marine gear whose leadership ability set him apart quickly. 

Sikora had been a career Marine. He was thirty-nine when he was sent to Nam. It was the worst three years of his life. He had made Skinner a unit commander and the boy had done excellent work. Usual for one of the younger men in the unit, he had no trouble leading effectively and getting results. 

Sikora had been shocked one night when he came upon Skinner in a passionate clinch with an Army lieutenant. The lieutenant was older and male. Sikora's first impulse was to rush in and rescue his man, but his man seemed to be actively cooperating. He didn't understand homosexuality. Was not comfortable with it. He started to discreetly distance himself from Skinner. He had watched him and tried to reconcile this man who he knew to be honest, brave and one of his best men with what he now knew about him. He never did have a chance to come to terms with it in Nam. 

Sikora's time in Nam had come to an end out in the field when their unit was attacked. He had been wounded and the helicopters were not able to get into the area because of the weather. Skinner had put one of the officers in charge. His mission was to get the men back. Skinner then had carried Sikora for four days to get him back to the line and to medical care. 

He remembered Badger holding him, comforting him and encouraging him to live. Badger had not let him give up and he was more than ready to. Badger had treated his wounds as best he could and then trudged on. Sikora had been in and out of consciousness and had not realized that Badger had been wounded too. 

Badger had been shot in the hip. Mostly a flesh wound, the bullet had gone through, but four days in the jungle and it was badly infected and he was weak from loss of blood. 

Sikora had spent two months in a hospital then was flown stateside. He had put Skinner in for a commendation, but he soon lost track of all his men he had served with in Nam except Sid. Sid had ended up in the same hospital as himself at the same time. So he kept track of Sid, and when he retired, he hired Sid. 

Sikora was appointed Director of the FBI fifteen years after he left Nam. He had recognized Skinner's name when he was getting familiar with the ASICs of the various national offices. Skinner had spent his first years in the bureau in Lansing. He had a law degree and worked in VCU. He had been promoted to ASIC in Boston. 

Sikora got Skinner's file and learned that the young commander had lost his entire point squad in an attack. Skinner, himself, had been in a body bag when a medic noticed the bag moving as Skinner struggled to breathe. Skinner had spent over a year in a VA hospital. He had finished three years of undergraduate course work in the hospital as he waited for his body to heal. 

Sikora had been surprised to find out that Skinner had no family and had been raised in a boy's home. However, thinking back, he couldn't remember Skinner talking about any family. Sikora realized that Skinner was a listener. That was part of what made him such an effective leader. Sikora decided to keep his eye on Skinner and see if he was the same man he knew in Nam. As it turned out, Skinner was, in every way. Sikora was conflicted when he found out that Nam was not some anomaly in Skinner's sexuality. 

Sikora thought long and hard about Skinner. It was only this one thing that made Sikora hesitate. Skinner was pretty careful and only rarely went out. God, what a horrible way to live. Sikora considered it like some unfortunate disease. Sikora made his decision and brought Skinner to Washington for additional training, grooming him to become an A.D. 

Clyde Makin had been retiring as A.D. of VCU and Sikora wanted Skinner in that slot. Despite opposition, mainly because of Skinner's age, Sikora got his man in. Sikora had never been sorry. Skinner had turned out to be one hell of an A.D. His sexuality had not been an issue. The bureau was unaware. There was no mention of it in his file, not even his psyche test touched on this. Evidently Skinner had been able to keep his sex life under the official radar. 

Skinner's Condo  
Saturday 9:30 PM 

Skinner and Mulder finished the preliminary back ground check on the parents, including Mulder's. Nothing of importance showed up, no discernable pattern was apparent. They proceeded to grid what information they had collected. Skinner's front room wall was now a series of poster board grids. As of yet, the grids didn't tell them much. 

It had been a strange afternoon for both of them. They had attempted kept a physical distance while they worked the case, but they both needed a bit of reassurance. Each touched a shoulder, gave a hand a quick squeeze. Their eyes would meet and they grinned at each other in silent agreement to connect personally later. 

Walter called a halt to work after the parental grid was completed and put on the wall. 

Walter went into the kitchen, "Not much out here. How about sandwiches. I can call and get a grocery delivery tomorrow. We'll make up a list later. You're stuck here until we know what we're dealing with. I've got your leave processed. It's for three days. I want you in on the meeting with Sikora on Thursday." 

Mulder followed Walter into the kitchen and put his arms around his waist and laid his head against Walter's shoulder. "Sandwiches are fine." 

Skinner put out both chicken and tuna salad, both made by the grocery deli. He also set out two loaves of bread, one wheat and the other rye, followed by two large glasses of ice tea. They sat down at the kitchen table. Both of them grabbed for the rye and they grinned at each other. Walter got up and put away the wheat bread. 

By tacit agreement they didn't talk about the case. They ventured onto other less critical topics. They talked about their likes and dislikes in authors, books and music. They laughed at Mulder's descriptions of his favorite old horror movies. He said after 1960 or so horror movies actually got scary. Mulder liked to laugh his way through. 

The clean up didn't take long and Mulder wasted no time drawing Walter into an embrace. They both headed up the stairs groping and kissing. They made it to the bedroom and Skinner broke the connection and lit a huge three wick candle on top of his bookcase and turned back to Mulder. The younger man was already half way out of his clothes by the time Walter turned around. Skinner smiled and quickly followed Mulder's lead. 

Soon they were in each other's arms. Kissing, exploring. Walter sat Mulder on the edge of the bed. "I want you in my mouth. Lay back, lover and enjoy." Mulder nodded his assent. Walter started by kissing him and caressing his hands over Mulder's chest to help arouse him. He took Mulder's semi-erect cock in his mouth. 

Mulder was beautiful. His cock fit him perfectly, long and elegant. Walter felt it grow in his mouth. Felt Mulder moving, moaning his name. Walter loved the taste of him. Walter intensified his efforts and soon Mulder was disengaging himself and pulling Walter on to the bed. 

"Walter! In! Get me in!" 

Mulder's desperate pleading was going right to Walter's groin. Walter grabbed the condoms and lube that were still at the side of the bed on the floor. Mulder quickly sheathed himself and prepared Walter. Kissing him urgently as his fingers stretched his lover. Walter raised his legs and Mulder pulled back and placed his hands on the sole of each foot. He placed himself at Walter's entry and pushed. Like the night before Walter surged against him, pushing him in. 

Mulder was already thrusting hard. He shifted his weight and replaced his hands in Walter's, holding them down. He unerringly found Walter's prostate. Walter was bucking wildly beneath Mulder. Walter came first with a loud moan and the spasm in his anal muscle sent Mulder over with a scream. Mulder flopped forward and Walter held him while they recovered. 

Mulder snuggled in Walter's arms and Walter lightly kissed his head and face. "Walter, I love you. Don't let me ruin this." 

Walter tightened his hug briefly, "I love you, too. Nobody's going to ruin anything. This is new for us both. We'll make it work." 

Mulder looked up into those chocolate eyes that twinkled in the candlelight, "Am I worth you position at the bureau? It may come to that." 

Walter looked down at that concerned face and kissed the tip of Mulder's nose. "Ya, your worth it. I don't think it will come to it, but you are my life. No matter how hard I've worked, it's still just a job. I can be replaced easily. But you are forever. Don't doubt that." 

Mulder's eyes were starting to water. Walter kissed his eyelids, tasting his tears. "It's O.K. baby, this is real." 

Skinner's condo  
Sunday Morning 4:53 AM 

The ringing of the bell had awakened both Skinner and Mulder. They hurried into their boxers and rushed to the front door. Looking through the peak hole, Skinner started and grabbed for the door. Skinner opened it and stood back as Director Sikora and Sid Stein came in. 

"Director Sikora, what happened to Thursday?" 

"Still there as far as I know. Get dressed and wake up. I want to get debriefed." 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Agent Mulder, why don't you get dressed as well." 

"Yes, Sir" 

Sikora watched as both men bounded up the stairs. 

Sikora and Sid continued into the living room. Sikora looked at all the posters. "They've been working. God, what can all this be about?" 

Sikora looked around once more and then at Sid and in a low voice said as he nodded toward the stairs. "What do you think about that?" 

Both men took a seat. "Last report, last week, there was no indication of any romantic attachment between them. Vickie and co. said dinners of the last five weeks were casual but there was no body language, eye contact that would suggest that they were more than colleagues and friends." 

"When they come down, go find a bathroom, upstairs, check out the guest bedroom and Badger's. I want to know." 

Sid nodded his head. Sikora heard two separated showers starting. "Maybe Mulder's in the guest room." 

Sid didn't bother to comment. "Is it OK if I find the coffee machine and get it going?" 

"Sure, Badger won't mind." 

A few minutes later, Skinner and Mulder reappeared freshly showered and shaved, dressed in jeans and tee-shirts. Sikora handed each a mug of coffee. 

"What the hell is this all about?" 

Skinner looked around, "Where's Sid?" 

Sikora reached for a mug. "Went to find a bathroom." His comment was punctuated by the sound of a flushing toilet. 

The look the A.D. gave Sikora suggested that Skinner was well aware of what Sid had gone to check out. 

Skinner pushed away his annoyance and anxiousness. He and Mulder proceeded to debrief Sikora and the returning Sid on what Mulder had put together and on everything that had happened so far. 

"So your computer experts and Agent Scully are the only active operatives right now?" 

Skinner put down his mug of coffee. "Yes, for now. Until the computer checks are done later today, we have no idea of the extent, who may be involved or how they gained access." 

Sikora leaned back, "Badger, this is very deep and dark. It might be a while before we get to the root. You've got everything covered that can be covered now. I'm going to set up at the Situation Office. My code name is Fiesta until Thursday when I "return". Laura and Dot are covering for us in Phoenix. I want direct reports via the situation room computer. E-mail Fiesta1/fbi.gov. I have encryption codes in place." 

"Yes Sir," Skinner answered. 

"Sid, Agent Mulder, would you excuse A.D. Skinner and me for a few minutes?" 

After Mulder and Sid retired to the study, Sikora leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. A posture that Skinner remembered from years ago. 

"You planned to keep Agent Mulder here until Thursday?" 

"Yes, I wanted to protect him and keep him working on the case. I set it up to look like he's spending a long weekend in Boston. Got the police check in covered and a cheap hotel reservation. I thought we should meet with you before I brought him back to the bureau." 

Sikora sat back and scrutinized Skinner. "Stay with the plan. We'll decide what to do after the experts are finished later today..Ah Badger, what the hell do you think you're doing?" 

"What are you referring to, Director?" 

"I'm referring to you bedding a subordinate. Are you out of your mind! How did you figure to get away with it. It's one thing to get your rocks off once in a while, out of town, but this is in the bureau." 

Skinner's voice was soft, "You knew?" 

Sikora nodded his head, "Since Nam. Stumbled upon you and an Army loo." 

Skinner groaned and looked down. Gathering his determination he looked back up. "This isn't casual. It's serious and if after this is sorted out, you want my resignation, you've got it." 

Sikora had heard what he wanted to. "As long as it doesn't affect the job, I don't know or care. Don't make it my problem and I won't make it a problem for either of you." 

Skinner stiffly nodded his head. 

"One more thing. You realize that Mulder is not just an investigator in this but an involved party. This wasn't in his personnel file, Dr. Grabbowski and I decided to keep it out but Dr. Grabbowski is convinced that Mulder saw the kidnapper or kidnappers of his sister. 

Skinner startled. "Why would you keep that out of his file?" 

"That's not all we kept out or at least buried. Mulder was in a coma for almost ten days after his sister was taken. Not only that but Mulder was abducted three weeks earlier and was missing for six days. Supposedly staying with a friend. It was never confirmed. The boy was home and safe so nobody bothered. It was not even pursued when his sister was taken." 

"Good God! Why isn't there an X-File on Mulder's disappearance? Why did you omit or bury his coma and abduction in his file!" 

"I wanted Mulder for the FBI. He has a near perfect endemic memory. His endemic memory was short circuited for want of a better word. Dr. Grabbowski was convinced that Mulder would become a guinea pig. The company doctors wanting to muck around him. As for the file number..." 

Sikora shrugged, "The agents actually used the same number for the sister as they did for the brother. It was sloppy work. They were lazy and didn't want to do the paperwork to start another file. Not all that usual at the time. 

We did a lot of back ground work on Mulder because of this and other issues before we accepted him into the bureau. I decided to bury all this outside his file. Dr. Grabbowski was convinced he had no memory of this and like I said, would just cause problems for him." 

Skinner was digging his fingernails into his palm but knew he had to say this, "He may have some memory. Since he started working on this, he's been having nightmares. The same ones he had after his sister was taken. They're intense, as bad as any I've ever seen. He dreams of being held down in restraints and being in some type of medical facility. That's all he remembers from the nightmares. His insistence on the experimental testing of the children may be based on experience. Experience that he can remember only in his dreams." 

Sikora looked a bit pale, "Shit. Watch him, Badger. I'm going to talk to Dr. Grabbowski. He's monitored Mulder from the beginning. Now that the nightmares are active, maybe hypnosis would work to regain those memories." 

After the Director and Sid left, Skinner went to the study to find Mulder. The agent was at the desk pouring over one of the files. "Mulder, he knows." 

Mulder looked up, "I know. Sid's little bathroom adventure. The Director knew about me from the beginning. Sorry." 

Skinner came in and bent down and wrapped his arms around Mulder. "I told him he could have my resignation, but it seems that he knew about me too, since Nam. I never knew. He said as long as we're not a problem for him, he won't be a problem for us." 

Mulder turned in his chair and pulled Walter in for a kiss and then pulled away, "So Badger, tell me why Sikora calls you that." 

Skinner made a theatric groan. "Just a nickname I picked up in Nam, Fox." 

Mulder laughed, "You play dirty." 

Skinner pulled him out of the chair, "Come on baby, let's go play together." 

End of Two Voice Harmony 5/19 

* * *

Chapter 6 

Skinner's condo  
Sunday afternoon 3:36 PM 

Scully laid the sheets of paper across the coffee table. "There is definitely something weird here. All the missing children in '47and the '49 to '53 group were delivered by Dr. William Knappenberger. They were under the care of various pediatricians, but from what I could dig out, tax records and such, Dr. Knappenberger did keep each of the children on a patient's list. Billing them a small amount every year. 

All the pregnancies were categorized as high risk, but I couldn't come up with any specific reasons. I've put in a request for a complete client list, but it was so long ago, I don't know if it exists. Dr. Knappenberger died in '63. 

All the missing kids from the '69 to '75 period were delivered by Dr. Michael DeLyria. He also delivered some siblings who were never taken, including Agent Mulder. Besides the thirty-nine children who were abducted, there were seventeen siblings delivered by Dr. DeLyria. Agent Mulder is one of only three survivors of the abducted children's siblings, all male. I've put in a search for the other two but so far have come up dry. We need to get some help on this line of inquiry. 

The fourteen other siblings all died of natural causes before they became adults. Their death certificates state the cause of death from anything to a heart attack to an unspecified viral infection. There were nine girls and five boys. All seemingly healthy until they died. None made it to a hospital alive. The Medical Examiners reports are mainly guess work. The last to die, died nine years ago. 

I compared the birth certificates and Dr. DeLyria had to rush across country for some of these deliveries. Dr. DeLyria lived in Sun Valley, California. Most of the babies were born in California. He delivered a little girl in Glendale, California and five hours later delivered Agent Mulder in Massachusetts. This is the fastest he had to travel from one delivery to the next. The plane schedules still exist. He didn't get to Massachusetts by a commercial flight. 

Like the other cases, these pregnancies were categorized as high risk. All the children were seen by various pediatricians, but from the few records I could come up with, it seems Dr. DeLyria was used as a regular consultant. Dr. DeLyria is no where to be found. His last tax form was filed in 78'. I didn't come up with a death certificate for Dr. DeLyria so he's probably still alive. 

I think we need to have more investigators assigned to do some deeper digging." 

Skinner was listening very closely and was slightly staggered by how this was evolving. "Good work, Agent Scully. Go back and reexamine those M.E. reports on those siblings. Then run any leads from your computer that you can. Don't physically do anything. Report to me here before you go into work. At work, don't do anything that has to do with this case. We don't want to alert anyone. Understood, Agent Scully?" 

Scully nodded her head and looked over at Mulder who had gone very quiet during her report. "Mulder are you OK? Is there anything I can do?" 

Mulder was a bit dazed but made an effort to focus on what she was saying. He couldn't quite do it. At her concerned expression he guessed. "I'm fine, Scully." 

Scully nodded her head, willing to believe him. She was focused on the her next steps in this investigation. Skinner was gathering up the sheets of paper. 

"You can go, Agent Scully. I'm going to fax these to the Director and bring him up to date on this information. Good work, Agent Scully." With a hand full of papers, Skinner headed toward the study where the computer and secure phone line was. 

* * *

Mulder didn't notice Scully leaving nor did he notice Skinner disappearing into the study. He was too busy fighting The Nothing. He had fought with it since he could remember. He had even lost to it a few times. At first, The Nothing had come as a friend. It saved him when Daddy got mad and started screaming at him and hitting him. It came when the doctors would hurt him. It would take him to a place where there was nothing, he would wake up and be doing something, eating or playing and the bad time would be over. 

He had named it The Nothing from a children's book he had read entitled "The Never-ending Story". In the children's book The Nothing was a bad thing and little Fox started to reevaluate his 'friend'. He started to resist The Nothing. The beatings were not that bad. He was older now, Fox reasoned, soon he would be seven. 

Fox always knew The Nothing was there. It would come and Fox would occasionally lose a day, but that only happened once or twice a year mostly when he had to go to the doctor. Sometimes it wasn't even a whole day. But usually he was able to defy it easily, if he saw it coming. On November 2, when he was twelve, he hadn't seen it coming. He remembered he was reading and then seven days later he was throwing up in his bathroom. 

His father would not speak to him. His mother said he was at her cousin's. That he had gone there without permission and nobody had known where he was. He had caused a lot of trouble. He never had asked who this unknown cousin was or why they hadn't called. He didn't want to admit to anybody that he couldn't remember. Sam had cried. Fox had held her and told her how sorry he was. He had been terrified. The Nothing could come when it wanted and hold him for a long as it wanted. 

Five weeks later he awoke again in a hospital. Sam was gone. The Nothing had assaulted him again and stolen his memory of his sister's abduction. Stolen his ability to be any help. Maybe it was God? No. It was bad. Maybe it was the devil? Was there any protection? For now on he would watch and resist. 

However, The Nothingness was alluring in its promise of painlessness. He knew that if it ever came to suicide that all he had to do was open his arms and call for The Nothing to come. But, he didn't trust The Nothing. It would probably leave him in time for him to wake up as an old man. All his possibilities behind him. It had been a occasional nightmare since Daniel. 

The Nothing had managed to wrap its arms around him for three days after Daniel had dumped him. His despair over Daniel had made him vulnerable. He had ruthlessly renewed his vigilance against The Nothing. 

Mulder had often felt it flickering at the edges of his consciousness during the years he had worked under Paterson. The Nothing had begun pressing harder and harder as Patterson had pushed him harder and harder. Mulder knew he had to get away from Paterson and the incessant profiling or else The Nothing would get him and steal his life. 

Now The Nothing was warring with vague visions. Memories? Were they memories from his nightmares? Was The Nothing trying to steal his memories again? Oh God! He was losing! He could feel himself slipping into The Nothing. 

* * *

Skinner tuned into the front room and sensed there was something wrong. Mulder was still on the couch and hadn't seemed to have moved since Skinner had left to consult with the Director. That was over forty-five minutes ago. Skinner called out Mulder's name but did not receive a response. He moved quickly and placed himself in front of Mulder. 

Mulder's eyes were unfocused and he was slightly swaying. He was mumbling what sounded like a small child's nursery rhyme, but one Skinner was unfamiliar with. Skinner shook him by the shoulders and began shouting at him. There was no response. Skinner, panicked, ran into the study and grabbed the phone and raced back to Mulder. 

Skinner's condo 20 Minutes later 

Skinner had never felt so frantic in his life. Dr. Grabbowski had been paged and patched through and had told Skinner to put ice bags on Mulder's wrists and neck for twenty minutes then wait five minutes and do it again. The doctor also said to keep talking to him and touching him. The doctor reassured Skinner that he was confident he could pull Mulder back. Skinner didn't know what was happening and it was scaring the shit out of him. 

At the knock on the door, Skinner rushed to the door and swung it open and ran back to Mulder. The doctor followed and set a bag down and extracted a hypodermic needle that had already been prepared. He quickly rolled up Mulder's sleeve and jabbed the needle into a vein. The doctor then started jostling Mulder's arms and then the top of Mulder's thighs. The doctor started talking to Mulder as he continued stimulating Mulder's muscles. "Come on, Fox. Come on! Wake up! Come on Mulder!" The exhortations continued for about two minutes before Mulder slumped and started to moan. Skinner and the doctor shifted Mulder so that he was lying on the couch. The doctor kept up the jostling and threw the ice packs aside. The doctor looked up at Skinner who was mutely standing aside giving the doctor room. "Skinner, come over here! Talk to him. Now!" 

Skinner moved to the back of the couch and bent down. "Come on Mulder, wake up. Come on, baby. Come back to me." Skinner continued with variations on the same theme for what seemed forever while the doctor sustained the physical stimulation. Finally, Mulder started moving and mumbling. The doctor stood up and stepped back. Skinner looked up, a question on his face. The doctor motioned Skinner to take his place in the front of the couch. "Just keep talking to him, give him some physical reassurance." 

Skinner came to the front and talked to Mulder. He ran his fingers through Mulder's hair, rubbed his face. His voice sill had a desperate edge to it. The doctor was checking Mulder's pulse. At last Skinner could recognize that Mulder was repeating his name. "I'm here, baby. I'm here." 

In another five minutes Mulder was awake and tried to sit up. Both Dr. Grabbowski and Skinner helped him. He looked shaken and pale. 

Dr. Grabbowski sat in a chair across from Mulder, Skinner sat by him on the couch with his arms enfolding his lover as Mulder leaned in against him. 

Dr. Grabbowski leaned forward and spoke quietly. "Agent Mulder, do you know what happened?" 

Mulder burrowed a bit further into Skinner's shoulder, "The Nothing. How long?" 

Dr. Grabbowski was stunned at Mulder's mention of The Nothing, but schooled his voice to be neutral. "Under an hour. I brought you back with a hefty shot of adrenaline. Tell us about The Nothing." 

Mulder felt drowsy and disconnected from everything except Walter's strong shoulder and Walter's wonderful smell. He started talking, not listening to what he said, just talking himself to sleep in Walter's arms. It was OK. He was safe. 

Mulder had spoken for over an hour. By the time he was contentedly sleeping on Skinner's shoulder, there were tears running down Skinner's face. 

The doctor got up. "He'll be OK. He'll sleep for a bit. Let me report to the Director and then I'll come back and talk to you." Skinner nodded, unable to look at the doctor, he just concentrated on holding Mulder. 

Skinner didn't notice when the doctor returned. He had never heard anything so horrifying as Mulder's sing-song recitation of his childhood horrors and fears and the child's reasoning to cope with them. And then his voice had changed from the child's sing-song to a flat voice that never the less conveyed desperation and despair as he had talked about Sam and later, that bastard, Daniel. And latter still, about Patterson. Skinner determined that Patterson's days at the FBI were numbered. 

The doctor finally got Skinner's attention. The doctor was an average sized man with average everything except for his eyes which were very blue. Through the average veneer, the doctor emanated an aura of kindness that encouraged people to trust him. Skinner felt himself responding to that innate kindness, needing the man's assurance. 

"What happened to him, Doctor? Was he going back into a coma?" Skinner heard his own voice and hardly recognized it, it was so unsteady. 

The doctor sat back down. "I've already told this to the Director. I've never been satisfied with what the doctors called a coma. The readings were off, but the doctors didn't really know what they were dealing with." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"I know you're upset, but listen carefully. I think that Fox here was traumatized when he was very young and given Lormyatheim to put him in a disassociate state to make him forget and then brought out of it by a shot of adrenaline. It would work well on a very small child. After Mulder got older, he was able to use the disassociate state on his own as defense mechanism. This is very dangerous. He could have been trapped after any beating his father gave him, after his sister was taken or after that Daniel person. If Patterson had managed to push him over, we may have lost him. Damn! I never, never picked up on this!" 

"Did the Director brief you on what Agent Scully found out?" 

"Yes, just now while I was reporting to him. I think Mulder is starting to remember. I think that all the kids were worked on prior to the abductions. I think Fox was actually abducted and then rejected for some reason." The doctor stood and looked down at Skinner. 

"He's going to be OK. I'm leaving a hypodermic for you just in case he should fugue out again. Just do what I did and call me. Now that he's actually got a bit of real memory to hang on to, I don't think that's going to happen. Is there any believable way you can stay here tomorrow?" 

Skinner shook his head slowly, "No, but I won't leave him." 

"Yes, you will if it means that you might get your hands on these guys. I'll come early and stay with him. No body will notice my absence, except for whoever has to cover my intake interviews. The Director says that a man named Frohike reported that it's going to take into early morning before they conclude their work. Try to get some sleep and I'll be back at around 5:30 AM" 

Skinner's Condo  
6:08 AM 

Scully walked out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee. She was not sure what she had walked into this morning. She decided to just sit till A.D. Skinner was ready for her. She was surprised to see Dr. Grabbowski here. Something had to have happened to have a company shrink in residence. Mulder didn't look very well and Skinner was looking worn despite being dressed for work. What the hell had happened? 

Scully's report was very short. She hadn't come up with any new information. Skinner had stated that Dr. Grabbowski would be staying with Mulder during the day and that he wanted her to go home after work and continue digging. She knew he was holding back. She didn't like it but it was probably only Mulder. She could see how maybe he might have gotten upset at some of the things she'd found. Mulder could be surprisingly fragile at times. She decided to let it go. 

Skinner's Office  
Hoover Building  
7:23 AM 

Skinner walked into his office and sensed he was not alone. He stopped and listened as he set down his briefcase and drew his gun and adopted a defensive posture. He turned towards his bathroom, "Come out of there asshole. Now!" The door to his bathroom cracked open and three heads peaked out. The oldest inched out and held his hands up. "Woe, take it easy. We're Mulder's friends." The other two followed. All were dressed in gray jumpers with Simon's Electrical Repair stitched into the right front breast pocket. They were a comical looking trio, but Skinner was too emotionally strung out to appreciate it. He lowered his gun. 

"Why are you still here? Have you reported to the Director?" Skinner wearily flopped down in his desk chair and reached for his intercom. 

"Kim, hold my 7:45 until I notify you." 

After Kim's affirmative answer, Skinner looked back up at the Trio. "Well?" 

The oldest man took the lead again. "I'm Frohike, this is Langley and Bryers. What we're doing is taking longer than we planned. I've spoken to the Director and he said to sack out in his office and to get back to work after hours. We'll need food. The Director also said to update you on our progress." 

Skinner nodded, "Take a seat." Skinner reached for his intercom again. "Kim cancel my 7:45. Tell Diller to continue his research and I'll see him later. Kim, what's open today? Never mind, tell him I'll fit him in tomorrow." 

Skinner stood up, "OK, gentlemen, let's go through the looking glass." Skinner led them to a wall, pressed a section of the wall and it slid away to reveal a small hallway. He led them through and came up to another wall and pushed. A panel slid back giving entry to the Director's office. Skinner then went across the room and kicked the baseboard. Another panel slid open to expose a small room with three sets of Navy type bunks. 

"This set up, is of course for confidential meetings and such. Bathroom's over there and should have shavers and toothbrushes you can use. There is a pretty well stocked fridge over by the potted palm, in the wall. Unopened packs of clean underwear and socks are in that cabinet. Help yourselves. Stay in here until I come get you. We want to make sure the other A.D.s are out of the building. Now sit down and tell me what you've found." 

Trying not to look too impressed the trio took seats around a small conference table. There was an intercom on it and Skinner flicked a switch. "Now it's hooked up to my office. Don't use it." The trio nodded. 

Frohike sat a bit straighter and started, "There are eighteen computers that have been altered to be able to be linked in such a way to fall under the security grid. I won't bore you with the details." 

Langley interrupted, "I will! It's a primo job. Very cutting edge." 

Brayers nodded, "We've got hard ware monitoring devices installed in all the computers. We know that one of the computers is a foe. That would be the one that's gathering information from the others, but there might be more than one. All eighteen are capable of it, being tied together like they are. But only the bad guys will use it because they're the only ones who know the capability is there. Here's the list of the eighteen computers. Thought you'd like to make a list of people who had access to each one. We're going to go through the daily activities of each one tonight." 

Frohike gave Skinner a determined look. "Even Mulder's." 

Skinner threw the look right back at him, "Why Mulder's?" 

"Agent Scully has regular access to it. The Director thought it was a good idea. The Director wants us to monitor the computers for at least a week. After tonight we can set it up so we can do it from an office. We found a small room in the basement that would work, ah B-4. If you can clear it for us, we'll set up our equipment in there. At least one of us will have to leave tonight to get it. We need IDs and a reason to be here. For the rest of the week, we'll come in at nine pm and leave around 5am." 

Skinner stood up. "OK. I'll check out the room and get you what you need. After tonight come in suits," and looking at Langley,and tie back your hair. You want to blend in. Your visiting agents from Lansing, here to be awed by the big boys. Eat and get some rest, it looks like you have a long night ahead of you." 

Skinner's Condo  
2:41 PM 

Mulder sat hunched over a laptop. Frohike had had it delivered by a second hand electronics shop. When he had booted it up there was a message from Frohike and a list of twenty-eight names. Frohike had written that these were the names of both possible frogs and princes and that a preliminary back ground check of each one, independent from the bureau, might be helpful. 

Mulder was concentrating on his task and Dr. Grabbowski was concentrating on Mulder. Not reassured by what he was seeing. Mulder had been closed off and silent for the most part. Dr. Grabbowski sat back and sighed, Damn, he had a feeling they were all in for a rough ride. 

End of Two Voice Harmony 6/19 

* * *

Chapter 7 

Home of Dr. Marcus Grabbowski  
3:48 AM 

Marcus Grabbowski was not a happy man. His front room was scattered with print outs and files. Nothing, the Nothing, shit. How the hell had he missed that Mulder was having disassociate episodes! Marcus had always believed that the coma following Mulder's sister's abduction was drug induced, but he never realized that Mulder had put himself in such a condition. But there it was, in the transcripts, black and white. He had missed the vague references Mulder had made in the sessions they had had. Shit. 

Grabbowski was John Sikora's trouble shooter in the mental health of certain FBI personnel. On that rarified list was one, Fox W. Mulder. Grabbowski had been watching him for eight years and had regular sessions with him for five. The sessions were under the guise of maintenance of agents in high stress positions. All the profilers had "maintenance docs." The sessions occurred only six times a year, every other month. Not enough. It took too long to get him out from under Patterson. Shit. 

* * *

Daisy Grabbowski woke up to an alarm that was set for 4:30 AM. She tumbled out of bed, wondering what Marcus was up to now. In the front room she saw her husband, on the floor, in the middle of a paper disaster, sound asleep. God, he looked cute. His longish black hair was mussed and tangled, covering most of his face. 

If it were not for his short beard, he would have looked like he was teenager. He was slender without being skinny. A young man's body that never filled out. A flat stomach and long legs on his 5'10" form. He looked deliciously boyish, even if he was turning 43 soon. And his eyes, she would never get tired of looking at them. So unexpectedly blue! She loved how they twinkled when he was happy. 

He was a dynamo of a person she hated to wake him, but knew something was up and that the one of his chicks in the FBI apparently needed some help. She went to put the coffee on first. 

She woke him with a cup of coffee and a kiss. He opened and his eyes and was smiling before his brain was in gear. 

"Morning Dr. Marcus J." 

"Morning Dr. Daisy A." 

Marcus had never stopped being amazed that this beautiful, wonderful woman had found him so delightfully lovable. Even after twelve years of marriage, the most fantastic thing about his life was Daisy. 

A comforting, connecting morning kiss and coffee on the front room floor. Heaven, as far as Marcus was concerned. 

Daisy was curiously glancing around. "What's up? Anything you can tell me about?" 

"Not really. You're off today, right?" 

"I'm on call for Mrs. Dallens and Chrissy Laker, but that's all. Plan to spend the afternoon taking Maggie and Sam to the video store to pick up some Disney and bake cookies. You know the mother and children bonding thing." 

Marcus laughed, Daisy was one of the most superb, nurturing mothers he had ever seen. She had a successful medical practice, but had kept her client list down so she could spend time with their children. She only saw clients three days a week except for emergencies. She managed this by sharing office space and office help with two other doctors. 

"Good, do you mind doing a bit of research for me." 

Daisy quirked an eyebrow at him. It was unusual for Marcus for Marcus to ask her for anything professional. 

"No, of course not. What is it that I can help you with?" 

"I have a patient whom I'm convinced was put into a disassociate state as a child. I believe that this happened more than once. My guess would be Lormyatheim or one of the related drugs. Check the effects of these drugs, both short and long term. This would be 74' and prior." 

Daisy was shocked, "That's horrible! Why would somebody do that to a child?" 

"To make them forget." 

Skinner's condo   
2:45 PM 

Mulder finally closed the laptop; finished with the preliminary back ground checks that Frohike had listed on the laptop that he had a friend messenger over to Mulder. It was on an account registered to a fictitious name and paid through a fictitious account. Mulder turned his head and glared at Dr. Grabbowski. 

"I wish you would find something else to look at Dr. G." 

"Not a chance, Dr. M." 

Mulder sighed; he had managed to avoid this confrontation all day. He had hid, he had napped and finally he had been able to work because of Frohike's delivery. He really wasn't up to it. Maybe he could take another nap. From the look on Dr. G's face, that wasn't going to happen. 

The last time he had fallen into the Nothing had been eleven years ago after Daniel had dumped him. He had managed to keep it at bay under Patterson. He figured he could control it. Last night had really frightened him. Once he knew it was coming, he hadn't been able to push it back. He figured his days as an agent were numbered. 

Marcus got up and went to sit across from Mulder. "Are you ready to talk about this? You know we have to." 

Mulder sat back and crossed his arms across his chest. Then looking at the ceiling said in a voice full of resignation. "Ya, why not. When do I turn in my badge?" 

"Oh, don't be so dramatic and get that tragic look off your face. I reviewed all our sessions and I think we'll be OK." 

"OK? How can we be OK?" 

"Because most of your childhood episodes I believe were drug induced and for the most part you have been successful in warding off episodes as an adult. I've always thought your coma at twelve was drug induced. 

Many of the black outs you described last night could have been drug induced. However, you did learn to trigger such an episode all by yourself to avoid your father. I don't have to tell you how dangerous that is. However, that book made you leery and you learned how to use other coping skills. Not the best set of coping skills, but they probably saved your sanity." 

Marcus leaned forward and clasped his hands together, "Mulder, in your adult life you've had two disassociate episodes, is that right?" 

Mulder nodded, "Ya, once eleven years ago and last night." 

Marcus nodded in response, "Good. After the incident eleven years ago, you increased your vigilance. By then, through your education you knew what had happened to you, correct?" 

"Yes." 

"Did you use any medication?" 

"No" 

"When you felt stressed when you worked for Patterson, what did you do to avoid falling into a Dis Stat that you didn't tell me about in our sessions?" 

Mulder looked away and then back at Dr. G. "Physical exercise. I'd run until I couldn't run anymore. When that wasn't enough, I'd go find someone and have sex." 

Marcus nodded, "OK, you've been out of Quantico for four months now. You've had three really nasty cases and were wounded once. How has your stress level been?" 

"Like I told you at our last session, everything is going very well. No stress problems." 

"OK. Do you remember what set you off last night?" 

"Scully's research. She came close to confirming my hypothesis about using the kids for some kind of research and that there's a government connection. Either government sanction or people who had enough influence to shut down investigations. 

While she was still talking, I started to feel anxious. I don't remember anything else, except panic when I knew I couldn't stop it." 

"Agent Mulder, I don't think it was Scully's report that pushed you over. I think her report initiated some real memories. It was those memories surfacing that pushed you over." 

"I don't remember any memories." 

"You did for a while after we brought you back. Do you remember talking?" 

"Vaguely." 

"You talked for over an hour." 

"Shit." 

"We need to get those memories out. After we do, I think your Nothing will be nothing. You've developed strong coping skills to manage your job and life. Strong enough anyway. We'll need to work to modify them to be safer, but I think we can do that. I think that those memories are the only thing that could really push you over." 

Mulder looked at Marcus, the relief clearly seen on his face. "You haven't mentioned Skinner." 

Marcus laughed, "I can't, not really, he's one of my clients too. However, I can tell you, I'm pleased. Might be good for both of you. You know you scared him silly. It takes a lot to scare that man. Might be nice if you made a point to reassure him." 

Mulder grinned, "I'm afraid you'll have to reassure him. He doesn't quite trust me in that area." 

Marcus stood up and stretched , "OK, will do. Until further notice, I want you in the company of at least one person. Make a small list of about five people. Let's see, Agent Scully at work, A.D. Skinner at home, at least until Thursday. And a couple more. I'll make a hypodermic for each of them to carry until we resolve this situation. Agreed." 

"Agreed." 

"I'm going to go report to the Director. See if you can help my wife with some research on these drugs. Here's her e-mail address. Should be on the net now." 

Marcus walked into Skinner's study. That had gone a lot better than he anticipated. Marcus wanted to keep him busy, Daisy would understand. 

He could see that the Skinner/Mulder romance was already reaping benefits. Mulder had been more open and communicative than he ever had been since Marcus had known him. He had a strong motive not to run off and do this alone. That's exactly what he would have done without Skinner in his life. Funny how it only took one person in your life to make everything else work. The scholars may not all agree, but he knew by his own experience it was true. 

Skinner's Office   
Hoover Building  
4:48 PM 

Kim's voice came over the intercom, "A.D. Kersh wants to know why you cancelled your dinner meeting with him." 

Skinner tensed his jaw. All the jerk wanted to do was Kersh's idea of networking and pumping Skinner for information. Usually, Skinner wouldn't mind too much. Kersh's company left a lot to be desired, but you were only asking for aggravation if you didn't let him spew out his nonsense once in a while. Well, tonight, Kersh would have to get along with out him. 

Skinner pressed the intercom, "Kim, give A.D. Kersh my regrets. Tell him something personal came up. Ask him to reschedule for lunch sometime next week. Page him if you have to." 

"Yes, Sir." Kim did not sound thrilled. She knew she was probably not going to get out of here by 5, but for once Skinner was. He had been antsy all day. He was worried about Mulder. 

During the early morning hours, they had woken up enough to get to bed. Mulder had clung to him all night. No nightmares, thank God. This morning, Mulder had stirred first and had assaulted him sweetly. 

Mulder had been a bit too cheery and had acted like nothing had happened. Skinner didn't want to start something he couldn't finish so he had played along. There hadn't been a crack in his veneer until he had opened the door to admit Dr. Grabbowski. Mulder had said hello and then pretended that the Dr. didn't exist. Scully didn't fare much better. 

Mulder had seemed relieved when Scully had left and looked at Dr. Grabbowski like he expected the doctor to leave any minute too. Skinner had taken on a bit of the A.D. mode and informed Mulder that the doctor was spending the day with him. Mulder had not been pleased. He had glowered at Skinner, but hadn't mouthed off. He had just gone into the study and slammed the door. The doctor had pushed Skinner toward the door, telling him that he would handle it. 

Skinner had not been able to call to check on how things were going. He didn't know how secure his phone was. This had been a very long day for Skinner and he was not about to stay a minute longer than absolutely necessary. He had gathered up his coat and was just clearing his office door when A.D. Kersh came in. Shit. 

"I do not appreciate last minute cancellations. I've got Congressman Kendall coming and he's expecting to see you. Wants to talk about the rash bill that's stalled in committee." 

Skinner paused only to put on his coat. "I'm sorry. Give my apologies to Congressman Kendall. Something has come up. I can't make it." 

Kersh pursed his lips, not an attractive expression on his meaty face. "If it was important, I would have been informed. Come on, I need you on this." 

Kersh did not outrank him, but sometimes acted like he did. Always pushing for something. "Sorry, but this is personal." 

Kersh's suspicious eyes followed him as Skinner hurried down the hall. Something was up. Skinner didn't have a personal life. 

Skinner's Condo   
5:36 PM 

Skinner opened his door, not knowing what to expect. It looked peaceful enough. Dr. Grabbowski was checking something in the oven that smelled pretty good. Mulder was slouched on the couch working over a laptop. 

At the sound of the door opening, Mulder had looked up and Skinner's stomach clinched at the open expression on Mulder's face. It was full of love and joy at seeing him. Mulder bounded off the couch and had Skinner engulfed in his arms before he had a chance to put down his briefcase. 

Skinner was not used to this kind of open and spontaneous displays of affection but happily figured he could get used to it. Dr. Grabbowski came out of the kitchen and waited for the men to pull apart. 

"Mulder, I've put the oven on 200 degrees, just to keep the lasagna warm. Let me take A.D. Skinner into the study and catch him up on everything, then I can go home." 

Mulder nodded his assent and repositioned himself on the couch with the laptop. 

Skinner lost no time heading towards the study, giving Mulder's shoulder a squeeze as he passed him. 

Skinner's study 

Dr. Grabbowski related what he had told Mulder. Skinner was sitting in the chair behind the desk and Marcus was sitting in the computer desk chair. Skinner was visually upset at the thought of his lover being subjected to that kind of cruelty not even having any safety in his family. 

"Did you know about his father?" 

"Walter, you know I can't... Well, I guess we'll have to make some new ground rules. After this is over, I want to see both of you together for regular sessions. Of course, we'll keep it out of the records. 

When life gets back to normal, there are going to be some problems integrating your private and personal lives. You have always needed something to nourish and love and fuss over. You evidently rejected my idea of a dog. Now, you have Mulder. Don't smother him. He's fragile right now, but that man is as tough as they come." 

Skinner nodded his head. Skinner was looking at his hands. "So what do you want me to do?" 

Marcus looked at Skinner, the man was as solid as an oak tree, but like an oak tree he wouldn't bend and was vulnerable to an ax, lightening or storm. Skinner was also a surprising kind man with a silly sense of humor. Mulder would be good for him. 

Marcus stood up. "Go eat dinner with Mulder, don't fuss over him and enjoy the evening. He's a master at avoidance; let him avoid anything he wants to, at least with you. Anything, that is, that you don't need professionally for the case. Keep the hypodermic handy and call me if there're any problems. That includes a nightmare, if it's a bad one." 

Skinner looked up and said, "At some point in this investigation we are going to have to deal with his parents. I'm convinced that a lot of the parents didn't know. Their children may have been merely convenient. These parents' reactions, at first, were typical until someone quieted them down. Others, like Mulder's parents, were way too complacent. Very suspicious, considering that Mulder had disappeared three weeks before. Is Mulder going to be OK? He never mentions his parents." 

Marcus shrugged his shoulder. "I don't know, but I think any parental bonding was destroyed long ago, if it ever existed. I think Mulder has the common need for parental acceptance, but will be able to fulfill that need successfully with spousal approval just like a large portion of people do. 

Please, Walter, don't make this into a mission. Don't try to parent him. Just be yourself and love him. That's all either of you need. Just make sure you temper your need to wrap him all up in cotton. He won't let you anyway, but, right now, we don't need the complication of the added drama while you both mark your territory. Leave it for later." 

Skinner stood up, he had never realized that Dr. Grabbowski knew that much about him. It was a little intimidating and Skinner hated to be intimidated. The sessions had been a necessary evil and Skinner had just gone through the motions. How had this guy understood so much about him? He must have talked more than he remembered. Oh well, Skinner was glad to have him around now. 

"You sure the Director understands about Mulder and that Mulder's job is not in question?" 

Marcus stood up and stretched, "Ya, the Director will follow my lead on this. He's gone out one more than one limb to acquire and keep Mulder. He's not about to let him go unless I say it's absolutely necessary. I don't think it is or is going to be. 

Marcus opened the study door and waved a hand at Mulder who was in the kitchen as he headed for his briefcase and coat. He called out over his shoulder, "Dr. M., see you in the morning!" and stepped out the door and closed it behind him. 

Skinner walked up behind Mulder, "That smells great, did you make it?" 

Mulder looked up at him and laughed. "No, it was Dr. G. I guess he got bored. After we had our little heart to heart, I was pretty drained so I decided to take a nap. I woke up to this wonderful smell." 

Skinner gave Mulder a quick kiss on the back of his neck. "Get it out, I'm going to change and then we can eat. There's some ready made salad in the fridge and assorted dressings. I'll make us some garlic toast when I come down." 

By the time Skinner got back downstairs, Mulder had the table set for them and the salad and a couple of the dressings on the counter. Skinner smiled and went over to the bread and got out some garlic spread and made up the toast. He popped it in the toaster with a practiced flourish. "Is Ice tea alright with you?" 

"Sure." Mulder had set out glasses earlier and took the pitcher from Skinner to pour. Skinner got the ice out and Mulder put a handful of ice in each glass. 

The toast popped up and Skinner took the four slices and put them on a small plate. "Good grief, haven't had such a great meal at home in ages. This is nice." 

Mulder sat down and smiled, "Ya, we really did great. All except the main course. I can't cook worth a damn. Always get distracted and end up burning everything. It's peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, canned fruit and veggies or take out at home." 

Skinner sat down and looked at Mulder and smiled. "I cook pretty well. Thai or Chinese, a little goulash and chili and I'm have a natural talent for slapping a steak on a boiler or grill. We won't starve." 

Mulder was charmed at the vision of a smiling Skinner. His voice, full of uncertainty, said, "You make it sound like we we're going to live together." 

"I wouldn't mind. We could do it with separate phone lines and a P.O. box. Sikora won't mind, I think Grabbowski was even hinting at it." 

Mulder grinned, "I wouldn't mind, either. I would imagine I would move in here, I don't think we'd fit too well in my place." 

Skinner, treading carefully said, "I own this place, but we can sell if it doesn't suit you. We could make the guest bedroom upstairs into an office for you and we'd just fit anything you wanted to move in anyplace we could." 

Mulder, munching some garlic toast, mumbled, "Not much to move. It was furnished. Just my fish, clothes and files and computer." Mulder's face darkened. 

"What?" 

Mulder looked at Skinner sheepishly, "My files fill up my bedroom. The landlord moved the bed and dresser in one of the other apartments." 

Skinner chuckled, "Scully described your apartment and your innovative storage techniques. I have a storage bin in the basement here. I've never used it. It's water tight and should be able to hold most if not all of the file boxes. If there is not enough space, we'll just live with them until we can find a place large enough." Skinner paused and then continued, "There's a guy on the ninth who like me, hasn't used his storage bin. He might be willing to sell it or even rent it." 

"You're so sure, even after last night?" 

"Yes. Are you?" 

Fighting tears, Mulder shook his head and concentrated on his food. Walter was amazing. He was so decisive, wonderfully so. 

"Neither one of us is actually experienced in living with a significant other. Are you sure we won't end up at each other's throats?" 

Skinner gave Mulder a salacious grin. "Might be fun. Don't worry, if we want this, we'll get over the bumps." 

Mulder returned the grin then turned serious, "What about Thursday? I'll have to return to my apartment Wednesday night." 

Skinner swallowed a bite of lasagna then took a drink. "I've seen about the details. Reg is going to stay with you at your apartment until this is over." 

"I bet Martha is loving this." 

"Not that you would notice, but I called her and promised that she and Reg could have a real vacation when he wasn't needed anymore. I told her to keep it quiet. She's really nice and it won't be a problem." 

"I like it here with you. I like this place, it has a good vibes." 

"I'll get you here when we can and then you can move in. Hopefully, this is not going to drag on too long." Skinner commented. 

"Well, right now, let's see about getting your beautiful carcass upstairs. The guys are probably going to be here early. I want a long night with you. Let's make wild passionate love, it will pass the time until the news and nightline." 

Skinner laughed and started picking up the plates to get them to the dishwasher. "Do you actually think we'll be done by the time the news comes on? Besides, you're not much company afterwards." 

Mulder was putting up the salad, "Is that a complaint I hear?" 

Skinner looked around at him and favored him with a brilliant smile. "Hell no!" 

End of Chapter 7 

* * *

Chapter 8 

4:31 AM  
Skinner's condo 

Skinner heard the pounding at the front door and dragged on his boxers again. Mulder was already up and freshly showered and modestly garbed in a tee-shirt and sweats. 

Mulder gave Walter a quick kiss and said, "It's the guys, get dressed and I'll let them in." 

Mulder sprinted for the door. Skinner snatched his jeans and headed for the bathroom. 

* * *

Mulder swung the door open and let his friends in. "Thanks for the laptop, Frohike. I was going out of my mind with boredom yesterday. Even the background checks were entertaining." 

Frohike, Langly and Bryers came in a bit hesitantly. They had never been in the employ of the FBI before and had a few conflicted feelings. However this case more than justified their involvement, even if they had agreed never to print it. Director Skoria had convinced them that this investigation would help their friend Mulder. The three were laden with six dozen donuts of every shape and form. 

At Mulder's incredulous look, Langly muttered, "Well, we don't know how many are joining the party. We knew Skinner was unlikely to have something like a donut. We knew we had to fend for ourselves if we didn't want something disappointedly healthy. I heard he's pretty grim and straight laced. We met him today and he did nothing to convince us otherwise. A real macho take charge kind of guy. Speaking of Mr. Macho, where is he?" 

Mulder was grinning, "Upstairs, dressing." 

Frohike bent forward and whispered in Mulder's ear, "You surviving here alright? You can use our bunker if you need too." 

Mulder started to laugh and Frohike bent back quickly and exchanged a worried look with his compatriots. They had known Mulder to be a bit strange before. Mulder was trying to reassure them but was laughing too hard. Skinner picked this moment to come down the stairs. Skinner frowned slightly, not knowing what was going on. Mulder looked up to see that frown and laughed all the harder. Skinner came within reach and Mulder sobered enough to seize him and pull him into a kiss. As Skinner responded, the kiss deepened. 

Skinner knew what Mulder was doing. Mulder had told him that his friends knew his sexual orientation and Mulder was just making an announcement to his friends. He didn't mind, in fact it was kind of satisfying making a semi-public declaration. Mulder was having a bit of fun with his friends and Skinner decided to play his part and deepened the kiss further. Mulder was getting hard. It had been wonderful to see Mulder laugh. Mulder, somewhat breathless, released Skinner and turned toward his open mouthed friends. "This is Walter, my lover. I believe you said you've met." 

Langly was smiling and Byers looked slightly embarrassed but was grinning. Frohike had a look of disbelief on his face, but quickly replaced it with one of consternation that metamorphosed into a look of resignation. Langly broke the tension by and grumbling, "Congrats or whatever, I'm starved and I do not smell coffee. Priorities people." He headed towards the kitchen counter with his donuts. The other two followed. Frohike stared at Mulder for a minute and with a slightly annoyed look blooming on his face, said "Since when did this happen? Last Wednesday you were bemoaning your single self." 

Not answering, Mulder grinned and gave Walter a quick kiss and snatched a couple donuts. 

Frohike turned away and came up behind Skinner like he was politely waiting his turn to get some donuts, but Skinner clearly heard him ominously whisper, "Hurt him and you're dog meat." 

Skinner startled slightly but was distracted by the sound of someone tapping on the door. Skinner turned to see Mulder open the door, juggling his donuts. John Sikora and Sid walked in, said hi and made a bee line for the donuts. 

John Sikora shook hands with each one of the Lone Gunmen and complimented them on how well they were doing their jobs. 

Skinner snatched a couple of donuts and went to start a pot of coffee. 

At another knock, Mulder opened the door for Dr. Grabbowski. When everyone was settled in the front room, donuts and coffee in hand, Sid addressed the Lone Gunmen. "Is A. D. Kersh implicated?" 

Frohike answered, "No, his computer is not one of the ones involved." 

Sid turned to Sikora, "He's outside, watching A.D. Skinner's building. He's seen people enter this complex. He's seen the lights in this unit go on. He could not have recognized you. What do you want to do?" 

Sikora turned to Skinner, "Any ideas why he'd be out there?" 

Skinner sighed, "I cancelled a dinner meeting yesterday. Kersh doesn't like it when he thinks something is going on and he doesn't know about it. He's very ambitious." 

Sikora turned, "Sid, call dispatch and have Kersh paged, have them tell him to get to the bureau and expect a call from me. Talk to Agent Miles and tell him to get the call arranged so that looks like it's coming from Phoenix. Tell them to call me back when he's on the line from the bureau." 

Sikora turned toward Skinner, "Now all I have to do is think of a reason why I would call him. Anything going on in bank fraud right now?" 

Skinner sat back, "You could always have him start a report on internet banking. Vaguely hint that something is in the works, then it can disappear. A.D. Kersh has complained about the lack of privatecy guarantees of some of the banks. He's generated a target list, but he's never gotten around to it, because of active cases. It wouldn't be a waste of time and would keep him actively diverted." 

Sikora smiled, "Good, now gentlemen, tell us what you've discovered." 

After five mind numbing minutes of Langly's description of how the bad guys had accomplished their task, Bryers interrupted, laying out a diagram. "These are the interlinked computers and these two were monitoring and collecting information today. We'll keep looking at the daily activity of all these computers for a week to make sure no other computer is involved in the active collection of information. But these two certainly are illegally collecting and copying information." 

Frohike put down a set of print outs. "Between the two computers, this is all the information that was downloaded today. All the information was copied onto a disc then the information deleted. It would go undetected if you weren't looking for it. I assume each of our rats just carried their discs out. I think that most the hardware was linked with the computers that were replaced, three years ago." Frohike shuffled papers, "The replacements were done in house. You need a list of names and of anyone who worked on the project. See if you can cross check it with who installed Mulder's computer four months ago. It's a place to start." 

Sikora sat forward, "OK, who are the agents implicated?" Frohike looked up. "Agents Alex Krycek and Jeff Spender. Respectively from Bank Fraud and Domestic Terrorism. Both have single use computers. They're the only rats involved now unless they gave their passwords to somebody else or somebody else ripped off the pass words." 

Sikora put his hands together and looked at Skinner, "OK, now what should we do?" 

Skinner stood up and started to pace. "These are foot soldiers, motives unknown. We need to keep them under surveillance, see who they report too. Also we need to keep those computers under surveillance to see if anyone else is using them." 

Langly looked up, "Don't have to watch the computers, I set up video surveillance on both computers. We'll see tonight if anybody besides these guys use the computers, plus we'll have these guys on video doing their thing. The videos are time registered and linked into their computers so the minute they download and copy we'll have it documented along with what information they were stealing." 

Sikora put his hands on his knees, "That's fantastic. Just perfect." He turned his head towards Skinner. "Today, I'll make sure you get hard copies of Krycek's and Spender's personnel files. I have extras of everybody's. Still don't want to tip our hand. Tomorrow, I think, I'll bring in Agent Mendoza to do deep background checks on them and their family and friends." 

Agent Mulder do a background check on Agent Mendoza. I'll fax his file under a security code to A.D. Skinner's fax machine. I want you to see if you can find any links between Mendoza, Krycek and Spender. Also, try to analyze the information that Kycheck and Spender gathered. See if you can find what the information can tell us about their motives or methods. 

Walter, go ahead and fax Krycek's and Spender's files to Agent Mulder here, should be safe enough faxing between your office fax and home fax as long as the volume is low. I just want to be a bit careful before I bring him in. Mendoza is one of the best at what he does, but Agent Calahand is also very good and I can bring him in from Baltimore if we need to." 

Skinner nodded, "Anything else? I need to change if I'm going to be on time." 

Sikora shook his head no. Sid and Sikora stood, "Good work, gentlemen. We'll meet here again tomorrow morning. Until then." 

* * *

Langsbury Estate  
Tuesday 9:30 AM 

The old man laboriously shifted in his chair. Why were the only people he could get to work for him idiots? "Mr. Renz, I gave you all the information from the plane number to his hotel and you mean to tell me that you have yet to make an ID? All I need to do is too confirm that he is indeed there. You're a professional, don't you think that the fact you keep missing him or can't get close enough for your telephoto lens, might be suspicious?" 

Mr. Renz did not enjoy having this expertise questioned, but the money was good. "Mr. X, the guy is holed up in his hotel room. There is somebody in there. He's living on junk food and room service. He doesn't let anyone in. The laundry he's sent out is Mulder's size. Which consists of boxers, jeans and tee-shirts." 

The old man interrupted impatiently, "Has he ordered any porno? If he did, was it fag stuff?" 

"No, he didn't order any. However, I went through his rental and he had a couple of fag videos. It would be much easier if you let me take some finger prints to verify his identity." 

The old man huffed, "Mr. Renz, there are reasons, we don't want to be traced. Never mind, I am very dissatisfied, but I will pay you. He'll be back Wednesday, so we'll pick him up here. I'll call you back if he doesn't show." 

The old man slammed down the phone. It didn't really matter if Fox was in Boston or not as long as he returned. It was time to get rid of Fox. He did not think Fox was worth the trouble that Spender Senior was willing to put up with. Even if Fox came over to their side, would he be any more valuable than Krycek and Spender Junior? Between the two of them, they supplied enough information to weld for money or power. The money was secondary to the power. The power provided cover for the project. 

No, it was time to get rid of the last threat from the last try. Mendalson and Gerody were still alive, if you could call it that, both instutionalized and near vegetables. After Fox was eliminated, maybe it was time for Tim Mendalson and Paul Gerody to disappear too. Tidy it up for the start of the next attempt. 

* * *

Marcus Grabbowski's house  
Wednesday Morning  
3:14 A.M. 

Marcus picked up the ringing telephone and one word was gasped out, "Come!" After that one word had been accomplished the phone had apparently been thrown aside. "Daisy, Daisy! Wake up!" 

Daisy sat up drowsily as Marcus thrust the phone in her hand. "Stay on the line until you can hear my voice. Use your judgment if you think you need to call 911." Marcus was already running out the door, still pulling his clothes on. 

* * *

Marcus was out of breath, he fumbled with the new key on his ring, Skinner's condo key, and finally inserted and turned. Once he opened the door, he could hear Mulder screaming up stairs. He slammed the door behind him and raced up the stairs and into the master bedroom. 

Mulder was wedged into a corner, pulled up into a fetal position with the palms of his hands crossed over his eyes. He was still yelling but his voice was becoming hoarse. Mulder's body was trembling and he looked like he was trying to push himself through the wall at his back. 

Skinner was crouched very near him but without touching. He was talking to Mulder, but clearly not reaching him. Marcus gently nudged Skinner out of the way. Marcus already had a hypodermic needle ready with a quick acting sedative. Marcus injected Mulder quickly and then sat back on his heels and waited. 

After just a couple of minutes, Mulder had calmed down significantly and Marcus cautiously touched him. He checked Mulder's eyes and pulse. Satisfied, he motioned to Skinner to help him lift Mulder back into the bed. 

When Marcus had entered the bedroom, both men were nude. Mulder had been put back into the bed in the same unclothed state, but Skinner, somehow, had managed to pull on some boxers and a tee-shirt. Marcus, checking over Mulder a bit more completely now that he was in bed, said, "Get undressed and crawl in with him. I don't want him to wake up alone." Marcus didn't register any movement and glanced up at Skinner who was turning red. "Walter, there is nothing more comforting than skin to skin contact." Marcus turned his attention back to Mulder. 

When Skinner was safely tucked in beside Mulder, the boxer and tee-shirt on the floor, Marcus sat on the edge of the bed and started to talk to Skinner, careful not to look directly at him. "He's in normal sleep now and will probably stay there for a couple more hours. He had what is called a Sustained Night Terror. These things are rare, but are not all that rare in Acute PTS patients. It's part flash-back, part nightmare. 

Sometimes these things can last for hours before the patient wakes up." Marcus glanced at Skinner and was pleased to see that Skinner seemed to have clamed down. Marcus continued, making eye contact this time. "This is actually good, it means that his memories are really close now. 

Once his memories are recovered, the SNTs will go away. Maybe not all the nightmares, but they should be reduced in frequency. He can't go back to his place tomorrow, ah today, even with Reg. We have to think of something." At Skinner's concerned expression, Marcus hurriedly continued, "He's going to be OK." Marcus was glad his little oration had calmed Skinner down, his little speech and Skinner being able to hold his, now peaceful lover. Skinner was going to need to maintain his cool if they were going to get through this. 

"Why don't you try to get a bit of rest and I'll go down stairs and wait for the others and start some coffee. I don't want you down stairs until Mulder's up and ready. We'll call in for you if necessary." At Skinner's affirmative nod, Marcus turned and walked out the door. 

* * *

Marcus puttered around Skinner's kitchen and got the coffee going and put together an egg, bacon and veggie casserole and put it in the fridge to put in the oven later. There were donuts left over from yesterday and there was some juice and melon in the fridge. That should do it. He settled himself in the front room and flipped on the TV and flipped between CNN and FOX. Slow news morning. 

Marcus leaned his back and sprawled out on the couch. Marcus was so glad Mulder had found Skinner and it seemed, just in time. Marcus seriously doubted that Mulder would survive this string of events with his mental health in tact if he didn't have Skinner to lean on. 

And Skinner was the perfect person to lean against. He would not allow you to drop. Skinner was such a private man, Marcus knew this had to be hard fro him, but he was putting his need for privacy aside in order to help Mulder. That was a very strong testament to Mulder's importance in Skinner's life. It gave him confidence that the two were going to weather the coming storm. 

He glanced up at the clock, it was nearly five. He set down his cup and the next thing he knew the door was opening, Sid and John had Skinner's condo key, too. 

Marcus filled them in on the nights events and then went to put the egg casserole in the oven. The Lone Gunmen made their appearance and they all established their little areas of comfort and dozed with the TV news in the background. 

Thirty minutes later the oven buzzed and the shower upstairs could be heard. Marcus got up and set out the casserole, donuts and fruit and juice out buffet style. Sid had managed the dishes and cutlery. Sid chuckled, "I never realized you were so domestic. You know, cook and all." 

Marcus shrugged his shoulders, "Once I married Daisy, it was either, learn to cook or starve. She is of the opinion that if it can't cook at the highest temperature possible, it's not worth cooking. Charred grill cheese is her specialty. But, she wields a awesome wok, though." 

Sid looked at Marcus with his mouth agape, "That is the first time that I have ever heard you say Daisy was anything but perfect!" 

Marcus looked over his shoulder, "She is perfect. It's what she cooks that's not." 

* * *

Sid was just put the phone down and turned towards Sikora, "It's all set." 

Walter and Mulder were just arriving into the front room, laden with breakfast plates. "Fixed what?" Skinner asked. 

Sikora looked up as he balanced his plate on his knees. "Kim's handling the details, but basically, you're at Quantico and working from there for some reason that whoever wants to guess can guess. All your appointments have been shoved to next week and next week's are being are being cancelled or rearranged. The Gunmen will hook up the hardware, computer and phone so you can work from here." 

Marcus took up the discourse, "It's important that you be able to stay with Mulder." 

Mulder was silent and sat down on the floor, at the corner of the coffee table, and put his plate on the coffee table. He didn't touch it. Skinner glanced at Marcus and then Sikora, "How do we explain Mulder not returning from Boston?" 

Sikora sipped his juice and then answered, "Our agent in Boston has already switched his plane reservations to Southern California. I need an agent out there to set up a case out there for cover. Can you suggest anybody?" 

Skinner gave Mulder a fleeting look, who was still silent and unmoving. "Amos Keswick is ACIC out of the L.A. Office. He's worked with Mulder and Mulder said he was a good agent." 

Sikora turned his head towards Sid, "Set it up. I'll talk to Agent Keswick early this afternoon. When is the plane to land in L.A.?" 

Sid rifled through a few papers, "Ah, not till nine tonight, that's and hour and a half before the plane he was supposed to be on lands at National, so nobody should be looking for him." 

"Is that P.I. In Boston still on Taylor's tail?" 

"No, it seemed he was fired. We tried to get some information from him but he was hired blind from Mr. X. Paid in cash at a drop. He was contacted only twice. Each time at a pay phone. The records of those calls have been erased. The only information that the phone company could retrieve for us, is that the calls originated from the west coast." 

Sikora leaned forward and placed his plate on the floor, "I bet this investigation ends up in California. The majority of the last batch of kids came from there." Sikora looked at Mulder, "Agent Mulder, what do you think?" 

Mulder still hadn't moved. Skinner was worried. Mulder had gotten up, but had been expressionless. He looked tired and drained of any emotion. Upstairs, he had moved like an automation. Skinner started to move towards Mulder, but Marcus held up a hand to stop him. 

Mulder suddenly shuddered and then looked up at Sikora. His face was tear tracked. His voice was trembling and childlike as he said, "I member now. Da-daddy knew." 

End of 8/19 

* * *

Chapter 9 

Skinner's condo  
Wednesday Morning 7:44 AM 

The room was quiet, reality itself seemed suspended. The bombshell Mulder had just dropped in their midst somehow felt like it was hovering between them, refusing to land. Marcus was the first to move and softly spoke, "Mulder, what do you remember, can you tell us?" 

Mulder nodded his head and then lowered it like a child confessing to some misdeed. He spoke with his eyes closed, his voice still trembling, "My daddy and mom were supposed to be next door playing cards with the Smocks. Daddy came in with four other men. Daddy was arguing with one of them." Mulder's voice cracked and he swallowed hard and then continued. 

"Daddy yelled that they couldn't take Sam. Sam was afraid and tried to run away. One of the men grabbed her. I tried to free her, get her away from the man. Another man grabbed me and then the fourth man gave me a shot and I fell to the floor. I couldn't move anymore. But I could see and hear. The Smoking Man said that it was daddy's fault. He said that they had taken me like they agreed, but the implant wasn't there. 

The Smoking Man said it must have been daddy who dislodged the implant by beating the shit out of me. It had been attached to the interior side of the xiphoid process of the sternum and daddy had cracked the tip. 

Daddy said that Sam didn't have an implant, but the Smoking Man told him that they had put one in while she was still in the hospital after she had been born. Daddy was really mad and started to fight. Two men held him as the Smoking man and the one who gave me the shot took Sam. She shouted for me to help her. I couldn't move. The man who gave me the first shot came back and gave me another and then they all left, except daddy. Daddy was yelling. I don 't remember anything else, except daddy started to kick me. I woke up in the hospital and Sam was gone." 

Mulder started to slide toward the floor. Skinner had quietly come around so that he was sitting crossed legged on the floor next to Mulder and was there to catch him. He pulled the semi-conscious man close against him, so that Mulder was sitting in his lap with his head against Skinner's shoulder. Skinner put him arms around him and started to rock him, his own face was tear tracked. 

* * *

Marcus and Sid came down the stairs after getting Mulder back in bed and Skinner laying down beside him. Both were sound asleep thanks to a mild sedative Marcus had given to both of them. 

Sikora stood up and directed an intense gaze at Marcus. "Are they going to be able to work?" 

Marcus motioned him to set down. "This, as horrible as it was to witness, is really a giant step forward. Mulder will be much more stable. This is the main memory that he was suppressing with those bastard's help. This is what could have broken him. We're OK." Sikora sat back and started to relax a bit. 

"Oh ya, before Mulder went to sleep he said to tell you that, Mendoza went through the Academy with Spender. They didn't seem to be close, but shared a lot of classes. As for the information, Mulder thinks it was either for profit and/or for leverage. He compiled a list of people, including a couple of legislators and a cabinet member who might have been approached. It's there on the table somewhere. Oh, and his check on Calahand was clear. Better bring him up from Baltimore." 

The Gunmen were quietly buzzing around and on yet another pass, Frohike stopped in front of Sikora. "It's take another hour here to get the phone line fixed. We'll link the computer through the phone line. Langly will have to do the trunk work out on 89A. Can Sid go with him catch him if he falls off the telephone pole? He's hell to live with when he's in a cast." 

Sikora looked up at Frohike, he was such an unexpected alley and Sikora respected him immensely. Sikora stood up and shook Frohike's hand and said, "Thank you, you can't imagine how much I appreciate your and your colleagues work. I'll gather up the stuff here I need and have Sid take me back to the situation room. I have to be personally delivered. I'll send him back for Langly. OK? Mr. Frohike, we are going to get this sorted out and the guilty are going to get what's coming to them." 

Frohike was a bit overcome. Mulder, of course, and then Sikora. Frohike was not used to being respected, he was momentarily at a loss as to how to react. He gravely nodded his head to acknowledge Sikora's words. He didn't trust his own voice. 

* * *

Sikora slammed his briefcase down on the couch in the situation room. He was so damned sick of this place! He missed his wife, Laura. He missed his home. He missed his aggravating Aunt Anne. God, he wanted his life back. He permitted himself a full fifteen minute pity party before he spread the files out across a table. God, what a mess. Bill Mulder knew! Unbelievable. What monster could do that to his own son? What about the mother? He reached for the phone. 

* * *

2:37 PM 

Sid came through the side door of the situation room and saw Sikora hunched over the computer. Sid came up and sat beside Sikora. "Care to explain why I spent the last five hours with Max and Martin putting up a punching bag in Skinner's guest bedroom? Do you know how much reinforcement was needed to hang that thing. We yanked up the carpet and put in a rubber gym floor and put in a treadmill and a stationary bike machine. We moved the bed and dresser to an FBI storage locker. What the hell was I doing?" 

Sikora looked up at his normally placid assistant who was now as pissed off as Sikora had ever seen him. 

"Sorry Sid, didn't Marcus tell you?" 

Sid shook his head, "No." 

"Marcus said the present funk we see Mulder in right now is the calm before the storm and Marcus is convinced the storm is going to be bad. Lots of anger. Marcus said if we want to keep Mulder in the condo, we better set up an outlet so he can throw a few well deserved tantrums. Skinner's been coped up and he's going to need it too. It'll be good for both of them. We need them to keep working." 

Sid slouched back in the chair. "Hell of a thing, ain't it?" 

"Ya, that it is. I've got Lewis, Collins, Brown, Owens, Grimes, Smithe and Yazhai actively working on this now. Taylor is in the air on his way to LAX, Keswick is meeting him. They'll be disappearing into the LA depths on a non-existent case. Everything is cleared out in LA. 

Calahand is coming in tonight. As far as Baltimore is concerned, except ACIC Monroe, Calahand is on vacation. We're setting him up in the bureau 'guest' room. Has it been restocked since the Gunmen stayed there?" 

"No, I'll take care of it." 

"I've got Owens and Yazhai, watching Bill Mulder, Lewis and Grimes watching Krycek and Brown and Smithe watching Spender. Calahand will do the back ground digging, and then I'm sending for Wiggens, do you remember him?" 

"The kid who did the computer work for Mc Naughton on the Newson Case?" 

"Ya, that's the one. He's flying in at 11:40. Put him in the 'guest' room too. He'll be assisting Calahand." 

"Where is Agent Scully in all this?" 

"I'll talk with her tomorrow, when I return to the Hoover. I'd like her to take Mulder's statement and see what we can make of it. Then I'm sending her to Quantico. I'll be setting up a way to sneak him into Quantico to get X-rayed and put given an MRI to see if the implant is still there somewhere. I 'm thinking of sending Skinner with him maybe Friday. Most people will be tied up in classes. I'm arranging the use of the facilities now." 

Sikora swung towards the ringing phone. It was his private situation room line. Sikora listened for a moment. "Right, Good work! Stay with Spender. We'll let Bill go for now if I can't get another agent there. Right." 

Sikora dialed quickly. "Dora, locate Agent Dagwood ASAP. Patch in through here. Thanks." 

Sikora turned to Sid, "That was Owens, Bill Mulder and Charles Spender are having a meeting over lasagna at the Olive Garden at Rhine and Jefferson We just lucked out big time. The only reason Owens recognized Charles Spender was that an acquaintance pointed him out when he was crosschecking information at the CIA" 

"Charles Spender, Jeffery Spender's father? Didn't know he was still around the way that man smoked... Oh my God! Could he be Mulder's Smoking Man? This is really getting creepy, John." 

Sikora stood up, "Creepy doesn't do it justice. Charles Spender, add his name to the list, but I doubt there's much there." Sikora looked up and put his hand to his chin as he gathered his facts together. 

"He was covert operations in the sixties, seventies and half way through the eighties when he just went off the FBI radar. He lurks around, still has security clearance and access to the Hoover, is thought to design deep intelligence operations for the CIA. He's a real spook. Jeff Spender was hired before I got here. I never would have hired him because of his father. Good God. What are they up to?" 

Sid leaned back. "Charlie is very experienced. It won't take long for him to spot a tail." 

Sikora sat back down, "Maybe. Look at this, there is not even an address listed for him. Print this and get back over to Badger's place and show Charlie's picture to Mulder and see if he recognizes it. Damn, we'll just stay with Charlie as long as we can." 

Sikora picked up the phone, it was Owens. "OK, get back and see if you can pick up Billy." 

Sikora looked up at Sid, "Well, that didn't take long. Dora? Cancel Agent Dagwood." 

* * *

The old man was upset. Mulder had not arrived on his planned flight. The old man glared at Jeffery Spender, and grated out, "Did you find out why?" 

Jeffery Spender loathed the old man, he stood straight and looked out the window at the man's back. The lights of Arlington shinned in the distance. Closer was a huge expanse of darkness. Miles of cultured wilderness. Jeffery lowered his gaze to the old man, obscenely fat with folds of meat rolling over the sides of chair. Did the old man even move anymore? 

"Mulder was called in Boston by A.D. Skinner and sent to LA for a case. I confirmed this with SAIC Keswick in LA. He wouldn't say anything about the case other than to confirm Mulder was assigned to it. That's following proper procedure. I found nothing suspicious in that. 

I checked Mulder's computer. It's an X File. Something about meat eating fish nipping off toddler's toes at Big Bear Lake. All hush hush because of the tourists. I've confirmed that Danny and Sam Barnes and Sarah Watins were treated for their missing toes. Five in all. I checked with an old classmate in LA and he confirmed Mulder arrived and checked in and then took off for Big Bear." 

The old man sat back and deliberated, well they might be able to get him in California. The main medical facility was there. All his calls were routed through there to protect his identity. It was the most sophisticated set up they had, but he would need to send Spender or Krycek out there to nab Mulder. Was it worth it? Too many unknown variables out there. Mulder would be returning. Maybe better to wait and get him at his apartment and fly him out on his own plane. The man sat back up. 

"Get out of here, Jeffery." 

* * *

Charles Spender opened the door to his little apartment. He had lost that puppy easy enough. He was amused by these little games. He chuckled, he didn't really mind. These young agents would spot him and try to follow him. None lasted for more than ten minutes. Well, one had, but he paid with his life. No one ever made the connection, Spender was too good for that. He grinned as he thought about being a legend in the corridors of the CIA. 

Charles Spender sat down with a whiskey and a cigarette and inhaled deeply, and his thoughts turned to Bill Mulder. Bill Mulder was becoming a real problem. Actually, he always had been, but he had been the only one who could work the formulas. He was a genius and only he had been able to understand the mathematics, however now, Spender had found a disgruntled MIT graduate who had a greed problem. 

Hector Rios had so far been able to recreate much of the work that Mulder had done. A few more weeks and the kid would prove himself the equal of Mulder and take over that side of the work. The old man was very close to ordering Bill Mulder taken out. 

Bill Mulder was a fool. His violence and drinking had caused the project all kinds of problems. His wife had had to be kept on a constant drug regiment to keep her mentally dull and docile. The drugs weren't necessary anymore. The woman now was little more than a confused soul who had trouble functioning through her daily routine. The doctors had diagnosed the early stages of Alzheimer's. 

Spender sat back and remembered with smug enjoyment the short and very hot affair he had had with Bill's wife. That was the reason he had gone after her, she was Bill Mulder's wife. He loved the power. He loved the destruction of their relationship. He loved seeing Bill rage. Bill had always suspected that Little Fox was not his own. 

As Fox grew up, Charles was convinced he was the biological father of the boy. And, that stupid name! Bill had done that because Charles had bragged to him once in a drunken weak moment that he considered himself the fox in the project. The one that would never get caught. The one that would survive no matter what happened to the project. 

Charles Spender had never wanted to claim Fox as his own. He was born to a woman who was not exclusively his. Another man had touched her so the boy was little better than human trash as far as he was concerned. 

Bill beat the boy and actually had expected Charles to defend the boy. The man didn't understand anything. When Charles had showed his indifference and disdain, Bill drank more and beat the boy more. This pleased Charles. However, in order to keep the boy alive and in tact until the project needed him, Spender had made sure that Bill Mulder had to spent plenty of time away from home. 

The boy's future had been extremely limited, much more than Bill Mulder knew. Bill Mulder had easily believed the lies about the children. Mostly, Charles believed, because he could care less what happened to the boy. 

Charles didn't feel any bond with the boy at all. In fact, disliked him immensely, because he was an insult to him. He was tainted, yet he was smarter and displayed more talent than his Jeffery, a child of purity, his child. Charles' anger would rise and burn like lava when he thought of it. He had lavished care and advantages on Jeffery and it was hard not to hate him for his normalcy, his mediocrity. 

Jeffery was three years younger than Fox, and it was like Fox had stolen everything that should have belonged to Jeffery. His son should have had Fox's endemic memory, should have had Fox's intelligence. He had not been sorry when Fox was taken for the project. 

But, Bill had messed that up too. Charles hadn't killed Fox. Probably should have, but he wanted Bill to have to live with him, knowing that it was because of his hatred for Fox that his precious daughter had been taken. Charles made sure that Bill Mulder's illusions about her coming back were shattered. 

Vindicated in his judgment of Fox, the boy's putrid taint had finally expressed itself in the his perverted sexuality. Spender had taunted Bill Mulder with it every chance he could. Fox had turned into a slut in England. He had toned down his sexual exploits to become an FBI agent, but once a slut, always a slut. 

Now Charles smiled, he was looking forward to turning that intellect, that idealistic drive to their cause. And after destroying what Fox was, he would destroy him, utterly and very slowly. After all, that was his main accomplishment in life, destruction. 

* * *

2:47 PM 

Mulder was scrunched in to an easy chair in the front room with an afghan over him. He was numb, couldn't feel much of anything. Dazed, but the nothing was not lurking anywhere close. Fragmented memories had been slipping in place all day. He wanted to shut them off. Dr. G. wanted him to let them come. They were terrible and they were full of monsters. 

He unconscientiously let out a moan and hid himself deeper within the afghan. Dr. G. wouldn't let him go back to bed. He was so tired, all he wanted to do was to go back to sleep. At least the pounding and various building noises had stopped up stairs. He couldn't even rise enough energy to ask what the hell they were doing. 

A sound of someone near finally caught his attention, he peeked out of the afghan protector and saw the back of Walter's head slightly bent over some work spread out over the coffee table as he sat on the floor. A phone rang and Walter answered. Mulder didn't listen to the words, but Walter's voice was soothing to him. Walter. How amazing that Walter loved him, he knew he felt it. He pulled the afghan tighter and closed his eyes again. He had felt love before, Mary had loved him when he had needed it. 

Mrs. Mary Everhart was a neighbor who lived on the east side of their house. When his dad would get crazy he would run to Mrs. Everhart's. She was like a grandma. She had spent many hours with Fox, holding him, rocking him and reading to him. She offered her home to him to stay in keeping him out of Bill Mulder's reach. It worked most of the time. 

Sam was always welcomed at Mrs. Everhart's house too, but spent a lot less time there. It was not till he came back from Oxford that he realized that his mom had paid Mrs. Everhart to watch him, but that didn't matter. He knew that after Sam was taken that his mom was too out of it to pay Mrs. Everhart and she was still there for him until she died when he was fifteen. He almost had not been able to make himself to go to the hospital after the heart attack that killed her, three days later at the age of eighty-nine. 

As his mother drifted away from him, Mary Everhart was there. He remembered her kitchen, her hands playing board games, her laughter and her love of 'read alouds'. She read to him almost every day until she died. Fussed over him and loved him until she died. Out of his love for her, he made sure she had her groceries and her yard done. Brought her presents and cleaned her house after her first heart attack. 

Her son, David Everhart was an US Senator. He and his family visited and Mulder was careful always to step aside, but Mary always drew him back in. David did not seem to mind. David Everhart's children were married with young children of their own at the time. They were spread across the country, so mostly, it was either the Senator alone or with his wife for visits. 

Mary's fridge door was filled with pictures of her kids and grandkids. Little Fox was delighted to see his and Sam's school pictures there too. His stayed there. He remembered looking at his picture on the fridge door during her wake. David Everhart had put his arm around him and told him that if he ever needed anything to contact him. 

David Everhart had kept his word. He had written a reference letter for him when Mulder was being considered for the FBI. Senator Everhart and his wife had always sent him Christmas cards and even Birthday cards. Of course, they didn't spend holidays together. They weren't close like Mary and he were, but the son evidently respected the relationship his mother had with Fox. 

Mulder didn't know David Everhart's children. They were both 12 to 15 years older than him. Both were married with children of their own. But he exchanged holiday cards and even sent their five assorted children birthday cards. They were Mary's grandchildren and that made them important. The kids were all elementary age except for one toddler. It was really the closest thing he had had for family. 

He sat up suddenly, David Everhart had not been on Spender's and Krycek's list this week, but had they ever threatened him or used information against him. He had to know. He had to! He couldn't stand the idea of Them touching Mary Everhart's family. The need to know that David Everhart and his family were untouched by this nightmare was so great that he almost couldn't breathe. He was starting to hyperventilate, starting to panic. Mulder felt his head being pushed between his knees. 

* * *

Dr. G was prattling on. Mulder tried to pay attention but couldn't seem to focus. What more did the man want? He told him about Mary Everhart. He told him about David Everhart and his wife Jean and the kids and their kids and the holiday and birthday cards and the fridge. God, all he wanted to do is to go to sleep. 

* * *

One Hour Later 

Marcus had finally let Mulder go back to sleep in the easy chair. Thank God, for Mary Everhart, she probably was the reason Mulder was sane. Marcus had often wondered where Mulder got his stability from. He knew there had to have been some light in his formative years or else he would have been a lot more messed up. 

* * *

Skinner had just completed a background check on David Everhart. He had been in the Senate for eighteen years and was the senior senator from Maryland. He was a liberal Democrat and had never been controversial. Everhart had never been the crucial vote for anything and infrequently broke with the party line. 

He was on two committees, neither of which were overly powerful. His causes seemed to be education and inner city revitalization. 

The Everharts evidently had fallen below the radar of the E-Group and Skinner wanted to keep it that way. E-Group referred to the "Evil Group", Langley had named them and it fit fine. 

Walter talked to Sikora and thought that interviewing Senator Everhart might be important. Mary Everhart might have spoken to David about Fox and the visitors to the Mulder household. However, it would have to be in secret and the Senator would have to know to keep his mouth shut. Sikora agreed and said he'd work on it. 

* * *

Skinner's condo  
4:15 PM 

Sid sat himself down and told Marcus that they would have to wake up Mulder if possible. They had had a possible break in the case. 

Mulder groggily sat up, as Sid laid out a picture line-up he had prepared across the coffee table in front of him. "Do you recognize any of these men, Agent Mulder?" 

Mulder unwrapped the afghan and leaned forward. He started looking at the pictures. At the sight of the Smoking Man, he felt himself constrict. He picked up the picture and crumbled it violently and threw it away from him. Suddenly, for the second time that day, he couldn't breathe. His stomach was coming up. In a panic, he got up and ran to the bathroom. 

From outside Marcus, Sid and Skinner heard retching. Marcus motioned them to wait. The retching stopped, the toilet flushed, the sink water was started, then there was an sudden, violent explosion of sound. The sound of shattering glass and fists pounding the wall. 

Sid was the first one in and had his one arm around Mulder's waist pulling him out of the bathroom. Once Mulder had cleared the bathroom door, Skinner grabbed Mulder and restrained him from the back. Marcus hollered to get him upstairs. Sid and Walter manhandled a struggling and screaming Mulder upstairs and held him while Marcus pushed on the boxing gloves. 

As soon as Sid and Walter let go of Mulder in front of the punching bag, Mulder laid into it, wildly hurling his fists into the bag. After ten minutes there was still no let up in the intensity. 

Skinner started towards Mulder and Marcus reached out his hand to stop him and looked into his worried face. Keeping his voice low, Marcus said, "Water, trust me. He's got to get this out of his system. This is better than the sedatives. This is good. This is the storm and it had to come. This is the only way, Mulder is going to put all this in the past." 

The three men turned their attention back to Mulder who was starting to lose his rhythm and he was heaving his punches with a lot more effort. Tears were rolling down his face and his yelling was losing volume and becoming incoherent. Eventually, he started throwing his body against the bag. Finally he slid down to the floor in sheer exhaustion. Skinner was down at his side immediately. 

Mulder leaned into him and put his arms around him, made clumsy by the boxing gloves. "Oh Walter, I'm not sure I can survive this." Skinner held him tighter, "Baby, we will survive this, just hang on to me." 

End of Chapter 9 

* * *

Chapter 10 

Wednesday Night 

Marcus scrunched a pillow and tried to pack it more comfortably against the low arm rest of the couch. It would never be his bed, he might as well face it. He hated to be away from home but he was needed here. Mulder's night terrors and his violent outbursts were normal in these extreme circumstances but he needed to be monitored. 

Skinner was under a lot of strain. Mulder was so overtly emotional that it was draining Skinner. Skinner was not a man who was comfortable with a lot of drama. He was basically very self-contained. Marcus couldn't stop the reevaluation of Skinner whirling in his mind, because he knew he had Badger out of focus. 

Marcus liked Sikora's nickname for Skinner, it fit the man so well. He was tenacious, focused and ready to defend the weak and innocent against all the bad guys and even some misguided good guys. He never gave in, never compromised when he was convinced of the road to take. 

That look he got on his face when he was determined was definitely the same expression he imagined would be on a badger's face when the badger was getting ready to fight. Marcus always referred to Skinner as Badger in his mind, but never out loud. 

In Badger's file was a series of School pictures taken every year at Villa Cabrini Home for Boys. Badger's little pugnacious face never smiled, always looked like he was ready for a fight. If one didn't know better, one would think that they were looking at a little bully. But, his school file had described him as a peace maker. Relayed incidents where he comforted the little and the weak and fought off the bullies. 

He had been idolized by some of the younger boys, hated by a few of the bullies and well liked by the nuns. However, even there he was a loner. A giver who didn't know how to receive. Would Badger be able to let Mulder take care of him once in a while? After this crisis was over, Badger had to be able to take as well as give or else they both were headed for trouble. Badger was going to be in for a lot of therapy, and he wasn't going to like it. Oh well... 

Marcus attempted to scrunch a bit deeper into the couch as his thoughts continued. He had suspected that the sexuality that Badger presented in the sessions was a sham because he had dated so seldom. Furthermore, Badger's accounts of those dates had sounded like debriefings. 

It had been obvious to Marcus that Badger mentioned the dates because Badger thought it was expected. Marcus had let him get away with it and hadn't pressed it because there was no reason. Badger's bureau performance was exceptional and unless Badger bought up his sexuality, Marcus didn't see it as a problem. 

He also knew that Badger was what Marcus called a "silent nanny". He would take care of the people under his command any way he could. He would go out of his way to make sure that they had anything they needed, but always in the background. He was always emotionally removed, but meticulous in his supervision of his immediate subordinates needs. 

He had twelve regional SAICs under who were fiercely loyal to him in part because of the interest Badger had taken in their lives, and the their well-being and that of their families. Badger related to his agents, like they were his surrogate family. However, Badger had only allowed that attachment to run one way. He did for them, but he was uncomfortable and unwilling to accept care and kindness from them. He kept his distance, emotionally and professionally. 

Badger was a very isolated individual who functioned well and seemed to need the emotional distance. Now Marcus was not too sure of his conclusions. He would have never thought that Badger had the emotional capacity to fall in love as he evidently had done. 

Marcus pushed at his pillow in another feeble attempt to make it feel like his at home. Marcus sighed, right now he had a handle on Fox Mulder, Fox, but what about Badger? He smiled, the Badger and the Fox, he kind of liked it. 

Marcus was afraid that Badger would start unconsciously pulling away from Fox to protect his battered personal emotional boundaries. It was possible that Badger was accommodating Mulder to the exclusion of his own needs. Hell, he'd have to get a hold of Badger today and see what was what. With that thought dangling through his consciousness, Marcus finally fell asleep. 

* * *

Mulder was exhausted, mentally and physically. He had used the 'gym' a lot that afternoon and was grateful that it was there. The memories from his blackouts were surfacing. Fragments of recall that had him restrained on a hospital bed with people prodding, poking and injecting something that made him feel that he was burning up from the inside. 

He remembered that he had screamed a lot but nobody ever responded to help him. They just came to check the readouts on the machines around him. He wasn't the only one there. He heard others screaming. 

Mulder tried to remember exactly what the machines looked like, the readings that he managed to see and the faces. All the faces that hovered over him through the years. 

He crawled over to the bed room wall opposite the bed and fumbled with a black sharpie marker he had used to work on his charts earlier. He started writing descriptions of people and machinery on the wall...every thing that his tattered memory was recalling. 

Mulder knew he had been taken every year, but the last year had been different. The probes had been deeper and he had been anchored, naked to a platform rather than a bed and a long breathing and feeding tube inserted. The room he had been kept in was sterile and cold, always with a bright white light. 

Mulder shut his eyes, but he could still see them as they came in after what seemed an eternity. He was taken into a warm room on his platform. At first he had been relieved. The room had dim light, but Mulder could see a series of huge Plexiglas tanks filled with some sort of green stuff and with what looked like naked children inside. 

Each tank held two children, a boy and girl and they were connected to each other with wires. Yet more wires were connected to them that came up and out of the tanks. Each child had a breathing and feeding tube like his own. Mulder had begun to panic, but he was so tightly secured that it was impossible to move, and the tubes made it impossible to yell. 

Mulder shuddered as he remembered the feel of the warm green gel as he was lowered on the platform into the tank until he was fully covered and laying on his back. He turned his head to see a little dark haired girl who looked back at him. The little girl looked at him without interest, without hope. She slowly turned her head away. 

He had been able to see distorted figures through the gel and the tank. He had been able hear distorted voices as they talked about the "project". He recognized the Smoking Man. His writing got faster as he filled the wall with the descriptions of the people, the tanks, the children. He carefully took down Walter's map of Michigan so he'd have more room. 

Mulder's memories were tumbling over each other. He remembered how the very idea of time evaporating and how he tried to hang on to his sense of being by listening to the voices. He had learned that they were never going to let them out. The voices said that it didn't matter if the specimens went mad, it wouldn't affect the "Product". That it was OK if the specimen's bodies atrophied and the eyes went blind, neither would affect the "product". 

But, the problem was the heart rates, the specimens were still occasionally panicking at such intensity that they were putting a dangerous strain on their hearts. The voices argued over which drug could be introduced that would not affect the "product". If they could keep the specimens calm, they might be able to produce the "Product" for fifty years. 

Mulder felt himself shaking and tried to control the marker better, he glanced across at the bed and took comfort in Skinner's breathing shape and then turned back to the wall where he was documenting his memories. It seemed very important that he do this. Irrationally, he was afraid they would disappear into the Nothing. Almost more afraid that they would be his forever. Mulder continued writing. 

He remembered being dazed, drifting, faintly conscious that he was losing the fight to stay aware when he was abruptly pulled from the tank and the tubes and wires yanked out roughly. Strong arms had dragged him from the room and placed him on a hospital bed. Mulder had turned his head sideways and had seen a small girl crumbled on the floor. Naked with the gray gel still coating her body. 

Mulder's hand shook and he leaned his head against the wall as he realized with a dull sort of shock that up until he had been put into that tank, he had been able to see green, had been able to see red. He had not been born color-blind. He gritted his teeth and pushed the realization aside and let himself continue to remember. 

The voices had battered his consciousness and finally started making sense to him. He gleaned that the little girl had died and they needed another one. They said he was defective. Something was wrong and he would never be able to produce the 'product'. Even if he was producing the material, they couldn't extract it. They would need to get another boy. 

It was still weeks before the first pair of the specimens would start producing the 'product' and they had to find a way to consistently keep the specimens alive. Once they started producing, the specimen's bodies would be so occupied with producing the 'product', that they would not have the energy to do anything but produce. 

The marker slipped out of Mulder's fingers and his legs began to tremble. He heard a voice start to whimper and didn't realize it was his own. He shuddered and placed his arms around himself and slipped down to the ground. Oh God, he could almost feel the gel. 

Sam! Sam! Sammmmm! Sam was dead! Sam had died with the wires, the tubes and that hideous gel! In his mind's eye, the little girl in the tank beside him turned to him with Sam's pleading face. Sammmm! 

The next thing Mulder knew, Mulder found himself in Skinner's arms and Marcus was taking his pulse. 

Skinner's condo  
4:23 AM 

Mulder was huddled against Skinner's shoulder and they were both wrapped up in a large coverlet on the couch. Marcus was sitting on the floor, Sid was in the armchair and Sikora was sitting on a kitchen chair that had been dragged into the front room. Coffee cups were scattered across the coffee table along with papers and photographs of Mulder's wall. 

Marcus had taken Sikora and Sid up to see Mulder's wall. Sid had taken both photographs and had video taped it. The wall was full of neat printing and drawn pictures. Sikora had asked why the hell did Mulder decide to use the wall instead of paper. Marcus had shook his head and had commented that maybe the wall had given Mulder a sense of permanence. It didn't really matter. 

Now they were downstairs, and Sikora was frustrated. All this and they were no closer to knowing what was going on and who was behind it. It was more bizarre than he had ever imagined. What to do? 

Mulder roused himself slightly and answered Sikora's unasked question. "Go get Bill Mulder. Unlike Spender, we know where he is and we know he knows why the children were taken. He was part of it." 

Sikora turned towards Mulder. The agent was pale and clearly shaken but his voice was steady. "We'll tip our hand. I don't want to do that yet. Bill Mulder might lead us to someone higher up." 

Mulder sat up straighter and reached for Skinner's hand under the coverlet. Mulder looked up and made eye contact with Sikora. "Pick him up. He has enough enemies that they won't immediately tie it to us. Do it in secret for a shield interrogation. We can do that legally. Use a safe house, or if you think Spender can find that out, use the Situation Room, not even Spender knows where that is. Keep him there until he talks. 

I doubt if he'll lead you to anyone. I bet they only use him because they have to. He's a drunk, unreliable for security reasons. Hold him, with hold the booze and there's a good chance he'll tell you what he knows." 

Sikora turned to Sid, "Go get him. Use the Ooka Team and apprehend Bill Mulder quietly. Take him to the Black room and put him in the holding cell. I want to brief Richard Plant and Noah Towers to do the interrogation. They are the best team I have and they know how to keep their mouths shut. Bring them to the Guest Room at 8:15 this morning. Tell Ooka that they are on duty for this prisoner until further notice." 

Sid nodded his head and stood up. He nodded his head to Mulder and Badger and picked up his coat and left. After the door closed Sikora took Sid's seat and looked at Marcus. "Do you think we should still get Agent Mulder to Quantico today for an MRI?" 

Marcus shook his head negatively. "No, Agent Mulder's memories are surfacing too quickly. I think this has to do with his endemic memory. His sight memory should be almost seamless and his auditory memory is about 80 per cent, with the exception of music which is in the normal range. A disrupted endemic memory tends to want to mend itself quickly once it's able." 

Marcus sat back and stretched, "Quantico may not be the best idea. Do you remember Dr. Kasahara? He's at John Hopkins, he's worked for us before and is an brilliant researcher. We could send Agent Scully down there to assist." 

He turned towards Mulder, "Agent Mulder, are there still memory gaps?" 

Mulder nodded his head. "There are gaps, small ones throughout my childhood. I get fragments of memories, but there isn't any context for any of them. I don't even know how old I was in a lot of them. And I still have no memory of the three and half days after Daniel told me to get lost or of the other night." 

Marcus looked back at Sikora, "Those last two memories may not exist. Like a drunk's blackout where alcohol disrupts the brain in such a way that it can not make memories, I think Mulder's Nothing does the same thing. However, the Nothing that the E-group initiated only covers up the memories, those are still there. Until Mulder's memory is seamless, except for Daniel and what happened here, I don't want him out of this condo." 

Sikora stood up, "OK, we'll go with what you say Marcus. I've got to go in to work. Thank God, I can actually go to my office. Do I look well rested enough to be coming back from a vacation?" 

Marcus laughed, "John everyone knows it was a busman's holiday and those are hardly restful." 

Sikora gathered up his coat and briefcase, "Busman's holiday, shit!" 

* * *

Scully sat uncomfortably in the Director's office. She had been summoned and had arrived ten minutes before. She had been told that Skinner was at Quantico and had sent Mulder on a case to California. She suspected none of this was true, but no one had bothered to tell her what the hell was going on. The basement had been a bit lonesome of late. Scully straightened up as Director Sikora came in through a side entrance. 

"Agent Scully, this way." 

Director Sikora led Scully through a labyrinth of hallways until they entered a small room. 

* * *

Scully's head was buzzing. She was on her way to John Hopkins in Baltimore to met with Dr. Sam Kasahara to start research on Mulder's implant and the green gel. It would be theoretical until they could bring Mulder down. 

The gel had caused Mulder's color-blindness, was it permanent? Hell, she hadn 't even known he was color-blind. Well, that explained his ties. 

Sikora had been brief and she was still in shock. Things like Sikora described only happened in the movies. Sikora had said that Dr. Kasahara had more details. He had also said things had progressed as they had because of internal security problems. She was shown pictures of Agents Krycek, Spender and an older man they called Charlie who was CIA and advised that they were under investigation. 

* * *

Skinner sat on the laundry room floor and watched the small candle he had lit flicker. He had not been alone in nearly a week and needed to...decompress. Mulder was in with Marcus. Shit, that man could be brutal. It was truly frightening how that man had his number. 

Skinner was irritated that after Sikora left, Marcus had suggested that Mulder get some rest and that Skinner and he should have a 'chat'. Marcus had then proceeded to more or less tear him apart, gently, but thoroughly. Skinner didn't like it that Marcus understood him so well. But Marcus had pointed out some pit falls that if Skinner was conscious of he could avoid. He needed to think. 

He loved Mulder with a passion and affection that he didn't know he was capable of. Since the first day he had seen him in his office he had been attracted to him and everything he learned about Mulder, every minute they had spent together, had reinforced his attachment to him. He loved. Skinner didn't think he had ever loved anybody, not like this. 

And wonder of wonders, Mulder loved him. He never considered himself the kind of person someone could love. He didn't think he was handsome. God, he started losing his hair at twenty-six! His nose was sort of pug, hardly a noble roman type. God, Mulder's nose was wonderful. He sat back against the wall. He always had thought there was something missing in his personality. He was not a 'fun' person, never had been. But Mulder loved him. He had enough sparkle in him for both of them. Would that sparkle survive all the memories? 

Skinner took a deep breath. They had not even been together, in the romantic sense, for a week. Tomorrow. It seemed a lifetime ago. 

Marcus had been so worried that he would not let Mulder take care of him. Wouldn't let Mulder express his need to nurture. Well, that was a bit off base. Somehow, Mulder had known what Skinner needed or had needed the dominate role himself. However, it just so happened, the way Mulder made love to Skinner made his body sing as well as his heart. He had never felt more loved, cherished and taken care of in his life. 

They would make it through this. Skinner heard a door close in another part of the condo. He blew out the candle and got up and put it on a shelf along with the detergent. 

* * *

Skinner walked out of his den and rubbed his hand over the few strands of hair on the top of his head and sighed. There had been a hostage situation in Philly. Reg had responded and all was well, but it had been a stressful four hours. 

Mulder came up to him and put his forehead against his. "Is everything OK?" 

Skinner put his arms around Mulder's shoulders, "Ya, Reg worked it and the hostages are free and the bastard's in custody." 

Mulder nodded, "Marcus is going to make dinner. He's out getting some supplies. He figured I wouldn't go off the deep end for a while. Are you OK? Are we OK? This is probably more than you bargained for." 

Skinner sought out Mulder's lips and pressed his own against them in a chaste and affirming kiss and pulled back. "We're fine. I love you." 

"Then let's go upstairs, I could use a little love right now." 

* * *

Mulder was working his magic, licking his way across Walter's chest and capturing a nipple. Walter was hard and moving against Mulder. 

"Easy baby, easy. You are the most beautiful man I've ever seen." 

Walter felt the blush run through him. Mulder's hands were everywhere, his mouth moved downward and Skinner spread his legs in anticipation. Mulder moved around so that his head was between Walter's legs. He was licking Walter 's balls and the area around the anus. 

Walter reached up and was able to capture Mulder's dick with his mouth and drew him close. Walter's hands explored Mulder's ass and played with his crevice. He was flying, suddenly, Mulder pulled away to get the condoms and lube. In a short time he was pressing himself into Walter. 

Walter opened up for him and pulled him home. Mulder enthusiastically started to thrust. They both were spiraling towards climax quickly, but neither tried to slow it down. They came within seconds of each other. 

Mulder was mumbling endearments and holding their sweat drenched bodies together. Walter treasured Mulder's weight on him and held him. Finally, Mulder pulled out, but Walter dragged him back on top on him and held him. Mulder was still talking, something about snowflakes, but soon talked himself to sleep. 

Walter hooked a coverlet with his toe and got it close enough for him to grasp with a hand. He flung it over them and sighed in contentment. 

End of part 10 

* * *

Chapter 11 

Richard Plant, better known as Keats, was pissed. He had been looking forward to five days away from the bureau. Five days tucked away in a cabin in Connecticut with his lover. Shit. Now here he was fighting D.C. traffic to get to the Hoover to see Sikora. 

Stopping yet again he leaned back his head and pondered the thought that His lover was somewhere in this web of mad motorists. Too bad they had to be so careful. It would be nice to have him sitting here beside him. 

Poor Noah, he had had to drive all the way back from Newark. He had gotten an early start and had just passed Newark when dispatch had contacted him. Noah would be tired and whatever Sikora needed would probably be sticky. Shit. Plant readjusted his body once again. Nothing was made for somebody who measured six foot five and a quarter. 

He jammed another tape into the tape machine. Noah had gotten him a variety of books on tape to mellow him out. This particular story was not quite doing that. He yanked the tape back out and inched forward in his lane. He couldn't remember being so disappointed. This would have been the first time Noah and him would have had anytime together away from the bureau. This had better be good. This had better be damn serious! 

* * *

Noah Towers walked into the Hoover and went up the security elevators dressed in his wilderness get-up. Fuck, if he was going to change. He stepped into the metal mirrored elevator and sighed. He had no choice but to examine himself in the metal sided elevator interior. He had never been comfortable with his looks and now he looked absolutely ridiculous. 

He looked at his carrot red curly hair and his milk white skin peppered with freckles, everywhere. He scrutinized his blue eyes and despaired of their too pale shade which was overpowered by his flaming red eyelashes and eyebrows. He groaned, his nose was too short, and his mouth was too wide. And now he was parading around in this Paul Bunyan outfit, Damn. 

The elevator door opened and there was Keats, scowling like a disgruntled teenager. Noah couldn't help but smile. Keats was beautiful, thin and so tall, longish brown hair that shown with auburn highlights in the sun. His brown eyes were liquid pools with just a dash of amber flecks sprinkled throughout. A boyish face with wire rims perched on his elegant nose. Keats was staring at him too, with a silly grin on his face. 

Noah had been partnered with Keats for nearly a year. They were an elite team that worked directly under the Director, reporting only to him. They specialized in interrogations and investigations into corrupted police agencies. They had been responsible for a major shake up in both the LA and New York Police Departments. 

Noah had been apprehensive when he first met Richard Plant. Keats was rather less than intimidating with his boyish, puppy like demeanor. It had irritated him and he had nastily demanded why a grown man would want to be called "Keats". Keats had placidly replied that when the choices were "Dick" or "Rich" with the inevitable, occasional "E" stuck on the end, Keats sounded good. 

It turned out that Keats' had, what he considered an unfortunate birthday date, October 31st. This in it self was a good source for any number of horrible monikers. Fortunately, little Richard (also an unfortunate name association) had found out that a famous and much admired poet had also been born on October 31st, John Keats. John was a common name, but Keats sounded O K. Keats was well established by the time Tommy Madson, next door, got a parakeet. Oh well, nothing was perfect. 

Noah soon found out that the gentle, puppy like persona disappeared in an interrogation or in an investigation. Keats was so intense at times, it concerned Noah. It was disconcerting to watch the gentle puppy turn into a rabid dog. 

Unexpectedly, they had become lovers six months ago. Unexpectedly because Noah couldn't quite remember what happened. He had been angry, yelling at Keats for some idiotic stunt he had pulled and before he knew it, he had been thoroughly kissed, prepped and rammed all in about five minutes. It had been in an office, not even their own. 

They had returned to Noah's hotel room and had hardly gotten out of bed for two days. Noah smiled at the memory. He was amazed that this volatile and wonderful man loved him and wanted him and that he, Noah was about the only thing that made this guy lose control. 

Noah heard foot falls down the hall and blundered into speech. "Do you know what this is about?" 

"No, haven't been in to see Sikora. We still have five minutes. I hope he's got coffee. How was your drive? Are you tired?" Keats bent over slightly so he could whisper into Noah's ear, "God, what a look for you! Hope this doesn't take long." 

Noah grinned up at him. At six foot one and a halve, Noah was not a short man, but he definitely had to look up to Keats, it was an unique experience. Looking at Keats, the enchantment that always engulfed Noah in Keats' presence took hold. Noah felt himself handsome and desirable because he could see Keats' appreciation of him in Keats' eyes. 

Keats smiled at his lover knowing the affect he had on him, "Come on, Mountain Man, time to see Sikora." 

Guest Room/Hoover Building  
9:14 Thursday Morning 

Keats and Noah sat in their seats, stunned. Director Sikora had taken them from his office to the Guest Room before they even had time to sit. Once in the Guest Room Sikora had debriefed them in detail. 

"You called Ooka in?" Keats was surprised, Ooka was a four man team of very specialized abilities. One of three teams that were directly under the Director, sometimes referred to as the Director's Gestapo. 

Sikora nodded in the affirmative and continued, "I want you two to interrogate Bill Mulder thoroughly. You have two days. We're acting under the Shield Interrogation Provision, so we have carte blanc. I don't want him to know where he is or who is interrogating him. After you're done, we'll let him go and see who's interested. You have the Ooka team at your disposal until this is finished." 

At Keats and Noah's questioning looks, Sikora continued, "For now, I want you both to stay in the Guest Room. There's plenty of room. The Room is set up for twelve and there are only Agents Calahand and Wiggins who are working on backgrounds and financial ties and Ooka. That's only eight agents. I might have more interrogations or I might be sending you out with Ooka, I don't know yet." 

Keats nodded his head, "How long has Mulder been in custody?" 

Sikora leaned back, "A little over three hours." 

Noah stood up, "Let's let him stew for another couple of hours, that way I can take a nap. Ooka are dressed in their non-descript black?" At Sikora's nod, Noah continued, "Then we'll have to decide what we want to look like to him, how we sound and what not. IRA is always a good bet with me. Or maybe we can put a German twist to it. Might be more effective." 

Keats stood up and stretched, "He shouldn't be hard to break, I take it that we were called in more for security than our talents, same for Ooka?" 

Sikora sat back and stared up at them. "Yes and no. I don't know where this is going yet. I need people around me I can trust and that I know can do the job." 

Noah nodded, "OK boss, but those bunks are not going to do it. I've been here before. I dripped over the ends and stuck out the sides. I will not go through that torture again. Keats here, isn't even going to be close. You don't want us cranky. I'm going to sack out on the floor for now. Hopefully, something better will appear by the time we get back." 

"Is that a threat?" 

Noah replied with a smile, "Na, Boss, it's just a precautionary suggestion." 

Sikora laughed, "Alright, I'll see what Sid can do." 

* * *

Skinner's condo  
10:45 AM 

Skinner had been working non-stop through most of the morning. He had talked with eight of the regional offices and had done the weekly reports. He turned his neck, trying to loosen up the tight muscles. He could hear the pounding of the punching bag up stairs. He decided to go up, a few minutes on the treadmill would be a good break along with some weight work. 

Marcus had finally felt comfortable enough with Mulder to leave for a few hours to reacquaint himself with his kids and Daisy. He would be back in time to cook dinner. 

Sid had brought a few free weights and taken away the stationary bike when both Mulder and Skinner had said they wouldn't use it. It seemed Sid was all over the place. He'd called and asked if he could use the king size mattress that had been taken out of Skinner's guest room. Now, why would he need that? Skinner smiled to himself and grabbed his phone to take up stairs. On the way up, he called Kim and told her he was taking a break and to hold his calls for an hour. 

Skinner entered the guest bedroom, ah gym, and Mulder stopped and glanced at him. His face was tear tracked and he quickly looked away and pulled off his boxing gloves and rubbed at his cheeks. He turned around and swiftly came over and carefully gave Skinner a peck on the cheek, trying not to touch him with his sweat drenched body. Skinner was having none of that and pulled him into a full body embrace and kissed him with serious intent. Skinner's plan for the treadmill and weights were quickly forgotten. 

Mulder's hands on him felt wonderful. Walter breathed in Mulder's scent, unencumbered by an overpowering deodorant. It was unique, musky and not displeasing. He broke the kiss and started to lick the sweat off of Mulder's neck and shoulders. God, how he loved this. Soon, Mulder was moaning and started to sink down to the floor. Walter followed him down. 

Mulder only had boxers on, which were quickly discarded. Walter quickly stripped while trying to keep his tongue in contact with Mulder's body. On the floor, Walter licked, nipped and sucked his way to Mulder's beautiful cock. Mulder was busy doing the same. Soon they had their heads buried in each other's groins, pulling each other closer by grabbing each other's ass cheeks. 

Mulder sucked, licked and nipped in blissful desperation as he felt his body start to zing towards orgasm. He buried his fingers in Walter's ass and sought out his prostate. Walter bucked, starting to spasm. Mulder deep throated him quickly. Seconds later he came in Walter's mouth. 

It had been a quick and wonderful encounter. Mulder let go of Walter's softened cock and with a gentle kiss turned around and crawled up and laid his head on Walter's shoulder. He had a faster recovery time than Walter on blow jobs, slower for any other kind of lovemaking. 

Walter hugged him close and Mulder said, "See what happens when the latex and lube are just too far away? God, you are wonderful." 

Walter chuckled, "Ya, you're kind of wonderful your self. We're on our own for lunch. I am starved, but I don't know if I'll ever move again. You wear me out, but I love it, love you." 

Mulder started sitting up, "I'm getting cold, I'm going to clean up and then make some sandwiches, if you can move that beautiful ass of yours, I'll save one for you." 

* * *

A little later: 

Downstairs Walter and Mulder were feasting on not only sandwiches, but tomato soup too. They had been quiet, but it was a nice comforting kind of silence. 

Walter leaned back in his chair, "It's kind of nice having the condo to ourselves for a while. I'll call Kim and see if she can't side track stuff for a while. There's nothing going on and I have only four weekly reports to do. Want to cuddle on the couch for a bit and see if there's a movie or something on? I've got some videos you might like." 

Mulder looked up and gave Walter a weak grin, "It sounds wonderful." He looked away and then back at Walter, "They must have dad by now." 

Walter broke eye contact and looked down at his empty soup bowl, he didn't know what to say, he looked back up, "How do you feel about that?" 

Mulder looked away again, "I don't know. When I was little, I always wanted his approval. Once I knew I was queer, I knew that wasn't going to happen so I just let it be. When I remembered the other night, I started to hate him, but it takes too much energy to keep it up. He's a stranger I never knew. One of the monsters. He's partially responsible for Sam's death. I really don't care about him, but I want a father who loves me. I want my sister. I want my mother well. Since none of that is going to happen, I guess I'm mourning. Just stay with me, Walter, please." 

Walter came around and enfolded him in a embrace and held tight, his voice was choked with unshed tears, "We're together for the long run. We'll get through this and then we'll concentrate on building our lives together. We've got so much to look forward to. Hold on, hold on to me, baby. I need you so much. Hold on to me." 

* * *

Black Room  
Hoover Building  
11:30 AM 

Two tall burly men in black stood to either side of a small holding cell which was made entirely of black bars. There was no bed, no chair, no sink, only a minimal toilet. There was no privacy at all. The larger room was also entirely black with no furniture. There were glaring white lights which illuminated the room uncomfortably bright. 

Keats had watched the man sitting on the floor for the last fifteen minutes. Billy boy seemed composed, ready to take this in stride. However, there was a slight tremor in his hands. The man needed a drink. 

He had talked to Noah before he went to sleep and they had decided on a plan. Now dressed in Ooka black, minus his glasses, which he replaced with black contacts, he centered himself to assume his role. He often had the unwelcome thought that if things had been different he might have become a very bad person. 

The role of psychotic interrogator came a bit too easily. Keats found that it was a wonderful outlet for the load of anger he always seemed to carry in an extra pocket. Mostly forgotten, but always accessible. He had a streak of cruelty in him that he didn't like to acknowledge, but it was there. Dr. Grabbowski had brought him face to face with it. 

He straightened himself and let himself fall into the role. He banged the door open and strode across the floor until he was standing in the center of the larger room facing the cell. He put his hands on his hips and acquired a disgusted look. He barked out, "Why isn't the prisoner prepared?" He then walked up to one of the Ooka guards and gave him a hard smack across the face. The guard didn't react, they knew to play along. 

"Never mind, I'll do it myself, open the door." 

The guard which had been hit hurried to comply, Keats walked in followed by the two Ooka. 

"Stand him up and hold him." 

Bill Mulder was angry and resisted a bit as he was manhandled into a standing position. 

Bill's voice was a bit unsteady as he spat out, "You don't know who you're dealing with! You all will be dead! DEAD! Do you hear me, you mother fuckers!" 

Keats responded quietly, "Shut up, Billy boy, we know exactly who you are and we also know some of your dirty little secrets and even some of your nasty little friends. You are really quite expendable, that is after we get the information we want, so if you don't want me to cut out your tongue, you'll tell me only what I ask and keep your putrid thoughts to yourself." 

Bill Mulder stood up straight, "You don't scare me!" 

Keats smiled sweetly at him and answered in a soft voice, "I should." He then removed a very long and sharp knife from a sheath tied to his left leg, he made a show of examining it and then quickly stuck the knife out and up through the top of Bill's trousers cutting his belt in two. It was a move that Keats had practiced a lot. It was usually very distressing to the people it was done to. Bill Mulder was positively white. 

Keats continued to almost lovingly cut Bill Mulder's clothes off. Occasionally drawing a thin line of blood. When everything was removed except Bill Mulder's shoe and socks, the guards bent his legs and held him in mid air, ass down, as Keats took his shoes and socks off and ran the blade lightly across the soles of his feet. He let the blade wander up the inside of Bill Mulder's right leg until the blade flicked at Bill Mulder's balls. Mulder was futilely struggled between the Ooka guards. Keats finally motioned the guards to set Mulder down. 

Standing up straight again, Bill Mulder still looked at Keats with far too much defiance. "Open his mouth, make sure there isn't anything in there, cyanide tooth or whatever. When that was completed, Keats took out a latex glove from a pocket and slowly put it on. "Bend him over." 

Keats gave Bill Mulder a rough anal exam with two fingers. He made it as unpleasant as he could without causing physical injury. Bill Mulder was pale and a bit shaken, but his eyes were still angry and cold. 

Keats bent over a bit and looked into Bill Mulder's eyes and said with a soft voice full of kindness, "You still don't believe I'm serious. You still think there is a way out. Nobody can find you, not even Charles Spender. Hold him tight." At that Keats saw a break in the wall, he grabbed Mulder's right hand and proceeded to break each of the four fingers, slowly, pressing his advantage. He hadn't wanted to give away that information yet but Bill Mulder had to believe he was in a hopeless situation alone. 

Bill Mulder was screaming, the guards still supporting him. Bill Mulder's eyes were agreeably wide and horrified. Keats exited the holding cell without a word and walked out of the room. The two Ooka guards silently let Mulder slide down to the floor and left to take their positions outside the cell. 

Bill Mulder's clothes had been kicked to the outside of the cell and were heaped in a pathetic pile, a reminder that nothing could be taken for granted anymore, not even basic human necessities. 

* * *

Guest Room  
Hoover Building  
2:45 PM 

Keats had showered and changed into comfortable grungies. An old FBI tee-shirt and scrub pants. He was so tall that it was impossible to grab something off the rack and expect it to fit, so for causal wear he had taken to wearing scrubs. Lose but usually long enough. The pair he was wearing were burgundy. The colors could sometimes be a problem, but it was better than wearing jeans that were zip codes away from his ankles. 

He was contentedly sitting at a table drinking coffee and doing a cross-word puzzle. He looked up to see Noah walk in and cross over to the coffee machine. Noah was dressed in jeans and an Arizona Diamondback Baseball shirt. Noah was from Tempe, Arizona and loved baseball. It was the D'backs first year and they had only lost thirty four games out of thirty eight, but didn't curb Noah's delight in having a home team for the first time. Keats shook his head, how Noah and his white skin had survived the southern Arizona sun was a mystery to him. He figured that Noah must have spent his childhood completely red skinned. Noah didn't avoid the sun, but he didn't sunbathe either. 

Noah arrived at the table and sat down. "How'd it go?" 

Before Keats could answer the two Ooka who had been guarding Bill Mulder came in after being relieved. They glanced at Keats quickly then put as much distance between themselves and Keats as they discreetly could. 

Noah, noticing the Ooka's behavior leaned in towards Keats, "Those are some of the toughest sons a bitches in the FBI, what the hell did you do?" 

Keats continued his cross-word puzzle, and nonchalantly commented, "Naked, rectal, four figures, he was a bit harder than I thought he would be." 

Noah shuttered slightly, this was a side to Keats he had seen, but never really got use too. He was the gentlest man Noah had ever known, well, with an asterisk. 

"Noah, come on, you know under the Shield Interrogation Provision, I'm allowed fingers, wrists, and toes. I usually stick to fingers because they seem to have the most impact. I had to mention Charles Spender to him." 

Noah couldn't help himself and blurted out, "I don't know how you can so calmly talk about this." 

Keats leaned back, "Noah, I know you can't. But this guy is a monster and frankly, I wouldn't mind de-boneing him while he was still alive." At Noah's horrified look, he hastened to add, "but of course I won't." 

Keats reached over and gave Noah's hand a squeeze, "Now that I've softened him up, are you prepared to go in and be his guardian angel and protect him from me? He's been sitting on the floor in his birthday suit for four hours now. I had the temperature turned down to a brisk sixty degrees. Wear your sweater. Do you want to watch for a while? The man drinks gin. Bring him a couple ounces and you could have a friend for life." 

Noah looked at him and grinned, how he loved this slightly twisted individual. "Ya, let's watch for a while. I'm ready to do my gig. Do you have that list of questions? Are you ready for part two?" 

"Ya, We've got to change. Did you notice the mattress you woke up in? Sid, me and a couple of the Ooka took out the bunks and now we have a king size mattress and two singles. Almost the whole floor of our pod is covered with mattresses. Neat, huh. Let me tell you, you were no easy thing to move. Took me, Sid and the blond Ooka, Nick, I think. They don't talk much." 

Noah was smiling now, the Keats he liked best was in the forefront, boyish, gregarious, funny and sweet. 

End of part 11 

* * *

Chapter 12 

John Hopkins Medical Center  
Office of Dr. Sam Kasahara  
Thursday 2:03 PM 

Sam leaned back and put his hands behind his head and stretched his elbows back as far as they could go. "This is intriguing to say the least. I would throw this away as someone's delusional dream if the FBI hadn't sent you with it. I don't know what they what me to do. We can conjecture, we can speculate, but we have nothing to go on." 

Director Sikora says he expects to get more information momentarily and Agent Mulder will be brought here as soon as Dr. Grabbowski gives the all clear. I suggest that we continue to do research on the Lormyatheim group of drugs. Dr. Daisy Grabbowski and I started it." 

Scully dug into her briefcase and handed over a file. "Also we can start on some research on whatever might cause color-blindness. Agent Mulder is convinced that it was only after he was pulled from the tank that he couldn't see green anymore. He remembered it being filled with green gel when he was being put into it. He doesn't have any other specific memories that include green or red before he was put in the tank, but Dr. Grabbowski thinks he's repressing them." 

Sam's interest perked up a bit, "How color-blind is he?" 

Scully dug and got another paper out of her briefcase, "Very, absolutely no green, no red, only shades of gray." 

"OK, artificially induced color-blindness, didn't ever imagine it could be done. I'll get my computer warmed up. Can I consult with Dr. Abrams?" 

"Only if he isn't given any details. Tell him it's a hypothetical problem until Director Sikora clears him, if it's necessary." Scully bent her head over to write some notes on a pad in front of her. Sam softly sighed, it had been too long since he'd been out. The woman had the most beautiful mop of hair he'd ever seen. Her eyes were glorious and she had a face of an angel. And wonder of wonders she was actually shorter than him even with her heels. At five foot four, most women loomed oppressively above him. 

Skinner's condo  
Thursday 6:30 PM 

Marcus was putting the finishing touches on the lasagna and salad. He pulled the garlic toast from the oven and happily set the table. Things here were going better than he would have ever predicted. Without Badger, Mulder, he was sure would have been on automatic self-destruct by now. Mulder was dealing with this mess about as well as could be expected. Badger was apparently doing fine also. He'd give Mulder another day and then send Badger and Mulder to John Hopkins to try to find that implant. 

Marcus decided he was having dinner and going home for a while. If Mulder had any surfacing memories, or night terrors, Badger could get a hold of him. Ah, the power of love, Mulder was coping because he didn't want to chance losing Badger. 

Marcus shook his head, he almost forgot, Sikora had called. He had to visit the Hoover before he went home. Damn. Sikora had never seen Keats and Noah do their thing. Sikora had been horrified when he had viewed a replay of Keats' opening performance. Marcus had to remind Sikora that Keats' had played by the book. 

The second encounter with Bill Mulder where both Noah and Keats had performed their song and dance had not been comforting either. Sikora was only used to the results these two got, not to what they actually did. So Sikora, being a bit flustered, wanted him to come down to the Hoover to 'talk' to them, and do what? Make sure they were both still sane? Well, he's stop in and say hi, and then he'd track down Sikora and have a little chat with him and reassure him that the crazies he employed were safe. 

* * *

Skinner's condo  
Thursday night  
7:37 PM 

Mulder was trying urgently to calm himself down. He had gone into the bathroom and all of a sudden was overtaken by a panic attack. He was panicking, but he had no idea what he was in a panic about. There was no new memory, there was no reason, but his body was responding to something. 

He tried to think, He had gone to the bathroom, turned on the sink water to wash his hands, and then he remembered! Ohoooooooo the sound of the water. Burning! The sound of the water echoing off the tile walls. The water they were spraying on him to wash the gel off. His skin was burning! Burning! He threw himself against the bathroom wall, breaking the towel rod and slid down the bathroom wall screaming, tearing at his clothes and scratching desperately at his skin to stop the burning. 

Badger broke the bathroom door down and Marcus rushed in. Mulder was in the grip of a panic attack. Or more likely, a memory that came on so strong it was like a hallucination . That damn endemic memory, throwing him right back into the experience, so exact. 

They fought to restrain Mulder. It was difficult because the bathroom was a very small quest bathroom and Mulder was desperately trying to scratch his skin off. Mulder's legs were kicking as he hurled his body side to side. Badger was practically laying on top of Mulder, trying to restrain him for Marcus. Marcus gripped his hypodermic tightly and dived in and stuck Mulder somewhere in his hip. Mulder was wildly squirming, but finding bare skin wasn't too difficult because Mulder had torn most of his clothes off. 

The sedative shot was just strong enough to calm him down but hopefully, not knock him out. Marcus and Badger continued to restrain Mulder so he couldn't further injure himself. In a couple of minutes Mulder was whimpering, still trying to scratch himself, but without any strength. 

Marcus motioned Badger to carry Mulder out. Well, he'd have to call Sikora and Daisy. It didn't look like he was going anywhere tonight. 

Mulder had been placed back on the couch. Marcus sat down next to Mulder and started talking to him softly. Walter, feeling a bit shaken and momentarily useless went to find his first aid kit and a coverlet. When Walter returned, Mulder was laying quietly and Marcus motioned for Walter to take his place. Walter started treating Mulder's deeper self-inflicted scratches. Mulder had done a number on himself, he had deep scratches up and down his arms and thighs, as well as across his chest. 

Marcus sat across from them and leaned back into the armchair and observed them. Mulder was groggy but awake and was now saying a mantra of I'm sorrys to Badger. Badger at first had been answering but it soon became apparent that Mulder was not listening. Done with his task, he started to put the First Aid kit away and looked at Marcus for direction. 

Marcus got up and came back over and squatted down. It took five minutes of talking to get Mulder to stop his mantra and to start focusing on Marcus. Once the doctor held his attention, he asked if Mulder could remember the flashback. 

Mulder nodded and groped for Walter's hand. Once he had it, he haltingly started, "I was burning." His voice broke and he started again. "They were rinsing the gel off of me with water. I could hear the water running and I was burning. My skin was burning. They kept pouring water on me but I was still burning. The water didn't help! Without the gel, I'm burning! Oh, fuck! I'm burning!" Mulder's voice unexpectedly escalated to a screech as his body started straining against the couch. 

Walter grabbed Mulder and sat him up enough that he could slide under him and then pulled him close, Mulder's back was against Badger's chest and he held Mulder tight, restraining his arms. Marcus quickly reached up and started rubbing Mulder's out stretched legs, "No burning, Mulder. No burning, it's just a memory." 

Marcus continued to jostle Mulder and talk to him until, Mulder calmed down a bit. Mulder pushed back into Badger's shoulder. Mulder repeated "Just a memory, just a memory." 

He turned his head and pushed it against the hollow between Walter's neck and shoulder and feebly whispered, "I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to remember." 

Marcus sat back on his heels and evaluated Mulder. He was very shaky but not sinking into a defensive dementia. The man was going to be OK, but this was hell. He hoped there were no more surprises. Marcus addressed Mulder, "Mulder, can you hear me?" 

Mulder nodded his head slightly while it was still tucked into Walter's comforting hollow. 

"Listen, Mulder, I don't think there is much more to remember. Check your memory, are there still significant gaps?" 

After a couple of minutes Mulder weakly straightened up and said with a slight tremor in his voice, "No, not really, a small bump of nothing here and there, but nothing that lasts long enough to be concerned about." 

"OK, Mulder, we're through the roughest part. Go get some rest and we'll talk in the morning." 

Mulder's expression suddenly turned angry, he spat out furiously, "I don't want to talk. I want shove all this shit into some black hole and nuke it." 

Marcus looked at him and gently said, "That's what we're going to do. Shove it and nuke it. Catchy isn't it? It can be our motto. Maybe we can get bumper stickers and tee-shirts?" 

Mulder leaned back into Badger's chest and gave Marcus a grin that just quirked the side of his mouth. "I like it. We can start a nice little cottage industry on the side before the bureau kicks us out on our asses. You are one crazy son of a bitch. You know that don't you, Dr. G.? 

Marcus smiled back at Mulder then at Badger and then got up and walked over to the chair and sat down. " Oh, that's why the bureau hired me. Go get some rest both of you. I'll be down here. I know where the bedding is." 

He watched as Badger got Mulder up and directed him toward the stairs. Badger looked back at Marcus once for reassurance and, getting it, turned back to his lover. Badger was gently guiding Mulder while entirely surrounding him with his arms giving Mulder his assurance of protection. Badger never stopped softly talking into his lover's ear and Mulder, even as they were moving, seemed to tuck himself closer to Badger. Marcus couldn't hope for better body language. Badger was turning out to be quite amazing. Mulder was damned lucky to have connected with him. 

Marcus sighed as he thought of all the time Mulder and he would be spending together to work on the all the stuff that Mulder had accumulated because of that group of bastards. He'd be OK. He was one tough and resilient individual to have dealt with all the junk. The nightmares, the absence of family, the panic attacks, the lurking Nothing and he had still become one of the best profilers the bureau ever produced. 

Marcus continued to reflect about Mulder. Maybe Mulder's phobia to fire was connected to him subconsciously remembering feeling like he was burning? Not just the once, but every year when they took him, he talked about them injecting him with something that made if feel as if his insides were burning, then that last time. That last time must have been horrible. As he drifted into sleep, his last thoughts were that that was an area they would have to explore. 

* * *

Friday Morning 10:13 AM  
Hoover Building  
The Guest Room 

Sikora was uncomfortably sitting across a table from Keats and Noah. He wished that Marcus had been able to come over last night. After viewing those interrogation tapes he was anything but relaxed with these men. 

Keats and Noah seemed oblivious to Sikora's discomfort. Keats grabbed for his coffee as Noah started the report. "We're done with Bill Mulder. We gave him a blanket to sleep in. It's probably best if we knock him out, wrap him up in the blanket we gave him and return him to his house. That way it will be unlikely anyone can trace his abduction to us." 

Sikora nodded, "I'll have Ooka take care of it. We have surveillance set up, I have Nava coming in tonight." 

Keats leaned in trying to rearrange his legs again. "What we have is in that report, but I'll summarize. Bill Mulder was recruited by Adam Kesstler the year he graduated with his doctorate from MIT. Bill Mulder did all the mathematical and engineering work. He designed those tanks. He was paid very well, both in money, women and his position. 

However, not even the E-group could keep his job in the Defense Department. His drinking was too obvious. He was retired early and put on a full pension. 

He was kept in the dark as to the exact function of those tanks. He guessed that system he developed would carry a small electrical current through a biological unit. He was told after his daughter was taken that any child taken was not coming back and that they would live out their lives in those tanks as human plants, there only for the harvest. He says it was then he realized that the biological unit was a child and not a dog. 

He said he was told, originally, that the children were to be used as test subjects for the life extension drug. Billy knew it was potentially dangerous, but because it was Fox, he didn't care. Billy had been approached by Adam Kesstler who offered him one million dollars if the project could use his unborn baby as a test subject. Billy agreed. He said only the people who worked in the project were paid for one of their children, the others were just chosen and taken." 

Keats reached over and flipped through the pages of the report, "The specifications for the tanks are here. Also a list of the eleven names that Bill Mulder knows are associated with the project. The ultimate goal of the project is life-extension by using whatever the children are producing. Billy doesn't have a clue. I gave the list to Agent Calahand and him and Agent Wiggins are working on it. Three of names, as you see, we already know." 

Noah interrupted with a look to his partner, "We didn't put this into the report, Billy is convinced that Charlie is the real biological father of Agent Mulder. Billy hates both Charlie and Agent Mulder. Naming the boy Fox was a slap in the face directed at Charlie. However, Billy says that it didn't work, Charlie didn't care. He seems to hate Agent Mulder too. Billy doesn't understand why." 

Keats said, "None of that is very important except if there is some kind of personality dynamic we can use later." 

Sikora looked over at his two agents, "We're going after Charlie. Between Ooka and Nava, I'm confident we can nab him. He's going to be tough. You've got his file. Prepare for him. Once he's brought in I'll assign Ooka to you again." 

Sikora stood up, "Good work. I've got Junior Spender and Krycek covered for now, I'm not bringing them in yet. The Lone Gunmen are still monitoring their computer and we might still get a lead there. The interview with Senator Everhart was a washout. Hopefully, we'll have Charlie within the next couple of days." 

* * *

As it turned out, Noah and Keats didn't have much time to prepare for Charlie. He had been waiting for Bill Mulder in his house. It could have been messy, but one of the Ooka had smelled cigarette smoke. The four Ooka had captured Charlie and drugged him and left Bill Mulder wrapped up in his bed. Ooka had called Keats and Noah on a secured channel and asked for instructions. 

Charlie was an experienced espionage agent so Keats figured his little knife act would not be too effective on him. Better not to take chances, he gave instructions that the unconscious Charlie should be stripped and thoroughly searched and left in the Black Room under guard. Keats also gave an order that when the prisoner was secured and processed that Charlie's brand of cigarettes should be checked and a carton of them purchased and brought to the Guest Room. 

Keats and Noah were hashing ideas when they were notified that Charlie had been brought in and was being prepared. Noah stood up and started pacing, "There is no way he is not going to know who has him. He's got an endemic memory and probably knows every face in every agency." 

Keats leaned back in the folding chair and stretched his legs. "He might know our faces, but he can't know all that much about us or even the Ooka. Faces that's all. Sikora keeps us confidential. Charlie might know about the operations in LA and New York, might know the Bureau was involved, but our names are only documented by the reports seen by the Director and the Justice Department." 

Noah nodded down at Keats, he could tell Keats was hatching one of his plots. 

Keats looked up to the ceiling as if endeavoring to gather wisdom from its cracks. "What if we present ourselves as rogue agents, out to get the life-extension process for power and money. He would understand that, would let himself believe that. He might even want to cut himself some new partners." 

Noah bent down and looked into Keats' eyes. "I like it. It might be fun, but Charlie will sleep for another two hours. Let's go to our pod and do some fine tuning. We might even have time for more than that if you can manage to keep it quiet." 

Keats stood up and bent so he could whisper in Noah's ear, "It's not me who screamed so loud in that Tallahassee hotel that the poor woman next door thought there was a murder going on. I don't think the police were too convinced that you stubbed your toe." 

Noah straightened his shoulders, "As I recall, you weren't too much help. Laying there in bed with your chest hanging out and working that cross-word puzzle. Don't think they didn't hear you snickering." 

"Oh really, Noah. Do you think we had them fooled at all? The place must have reeked of sex." 

"Oh, God." 

"Come on, baby. Let's see if we can't reek some more." 

Keats headed towards their pod and stopped when he noticed Noah was not following. Seeing Noah bending over some cupboards, Keats asked, "What are you looking for?" 

Noah's muffled answer came back, "They must have some room fresher in here, somewhere." 

Keats marched over and collected his lover by putting an arm around his waist and literally carrying him to their pod. 

They both were laughing hysterically by the time Keats dumped Noah on the mattresses and slammed the door behind him. 

* * *

Skinner's condo  
Friday Afternoon 4:48 PM 

Mulder was updating their strategy charts while Walter was working over the coffee table. Talking on the phone and jotting down notes. Marcus had gone home for a while. He was cooking diner for his wife and kids and then coming back. 

Walter was just putting down the phone when they heard the fax machine. Walter got up and went to collect it. As soon as Walter realized what he had, he gathered the sheets and ran out to the front room. "Mulder! Mulder! They've got Charlie! Here's the report on what they learned from Bill Mulder and here, look here! Sikora wrote us a note that they have Charlie in custody and will start the interrogation sometime tonight." 

Mulder rushed over and grabbed for the papers. He quickly glanced through them. Mulder tossed them to the side angrily. "These have been edited. Damnit! I want to know everything that bastard said." Mulder plopped himself on the floor and moodily gathered the papers into a neat pile. "Sorry, Badger." 

Walter winced, that was the third time Mulder had called him that. Things being as they were, Walter was not going to be petty and correct him on this, but still. 

Mulder interrupted his thoughts, "I can't believe that they have Charlie! Boy, that is one interrogation I'd like to see. Do you think they have a chance of getting any information from him?" 

Walter sat down beside Mulder and leaned against him slightly. "This guy is a real spook. I don't know, but Sikora has a couple of agents that specialize in difficult interrogations. He mentioned a Richard Plant and the other one is Noah Towers. Ring any bells?" 

Mulder closed his eyes and concentrated. "No." 

Walter put his arm around Mulder's shoulder, "You hungry yet or do you fell like going up to the gym?" 

Mulder snuggled in a little closer to Walter, "Come on, Badger, let's go upstairs. I want to make love to you." 

Mulder reached for his lover and brought him close for a kiss. The kiss deepened and it was all either of them could do to get up the stairs and to the bed. Their clothes were quickly tossed aside. 

Walter never did notice that Mulder kept calling him Badger until they were both sated and cuddling in bed, basking in afterglow. Mulder, drifting off to sleep, drowsily chattering about hummingbirds while Walter contentedly held him. Well, if Mulder insisted on calling him Badger, he could live with it, he decided. He would let him call him anything. Badger smiled as he considered that Fox, once you got used to it, had sort of a nice ring to it. Well, he had warned him. 

End of Two Voice Harmony 12/19 

* * *

Chapter 13 

Skinner's condo  
Saturday Morning  
4:18 AM 

Mulder opened his eyes and watched the flickering light dance on the ceiling for the few seconds that it took him to come fully awake. It was gently wavering, projecting moving shapes of shade across the smooth expanse. Mulder found it inexplicitly soothing, comforting for some reason. Maybe because he was in Badger's bedroom, their bedroom. Mulder buried himself deeper under the comforter and reached his hand out to connect with his lover. No Badger. 

He looked over to his side and saw the top of Badger's head. When had that happened? When had Mulder started thinking of him as Badger? Maybe he needed a name that was exclusively his for his lover or maybe Walter had become a Badger for him, defending him and taking care of him. He had been so wonderful. Badger loved him, he still couldn't get over the wonder of it. Badger, somehow, that fit him, but he would never have the nerve to call him that out loud. Had to watch out and make sure he didn't slip, Walter, Walter. 

Mulder quietly eased himself up on his elbows and saw that Badger was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a three wick candle that had set on the bookcase. His lover's face was expressionless, but peaceful. Without his glasses he looked very young and...wistful. What was he doing? Meditating? Was he a closet new-ager, or into Zen or something? 

Mulder tried to silently crawl over to the end of the bed but got his foot twisted in the sheet. Untangling his foot, he hopped out and he stood up. Badger, who had been watching the process, looked at him with a grin on his face. Then, when Mulder was safely standing he smiled up at him. "Did I wake you?" 

Mulder paused and looked down at Badger. He was clad only in a old FBI gym shirt and boxers, his long legs crossed and his face lifted in an amused smile. The sight made Mulder catch his breath. The glittering light of the candle softened and played with Badger's features. God! He was beautiful!. Not only his body, but the inner man who shown through those sparkling eyes. 

Mulder walked over, not bothering to pull on his boxers and sat down beside Badger and crossed his legs. He lightly leaned against his lover, shoulder to shoulder. "Badg... ah, Walter, what are you doing?" 

Badger turned his head back toward the little flames and grinned. He returned a bit of pressure to Mulder's shoulder which was lightly pressing against his. "You can call me Badger if you want to. You did it all day, yesterday, roll back your tapes and check it out." 

Mulder groaned slightly and Badger continued, softening his voice, "And remember last night, you yelled it out, you put a strong emphasis on the first syllable and then you collapsed on me and whispered the second syllable in my ear. I was already going to let you call me anything you wanted to, but it was then that I decided I liked it, hearing it like that." 

Mulder's blush was even visible in the candlelight. "I don't know why I started thinking of you by that name." 

Badger put his put his arm around Mulder, "Baby, it doesn't matter." 

Mulder's voice was tentative when he asked, "Do you have another name for me, I mean that you call me in your head?" 

"Sometimes I call you Fox, but I know you've always disliked that name. Were you hoping for Harry?" 

Mulder smirked, "No, I think I'll pass on Harry. Fox is unusual, but not unheard of. I was rather thankful when I found out that Zorro meant Fox. Well, if a hero could be named Fox, or at least called Fox, so could I. It was my main defense in school. Mary always called me 'little one' or some variation in various languages. She avoided my name as much as I did." Mulder looked down and his voice became hoarse, "I think I've always hated the name Fox because I don't think I've ever heard it said with... 

Badger interrupted gently, "With love, with affection?" 

Mulder nodded his head and then raised it, glad he could focus his eyes on the candle, "Ya, I was so relieved when I got to Oxford. Every one there was just called by their last names." 

There were a few moments of silence and then Mulder unfolded his legs and turned towards Badger to find that hollow space between his lover's neck and shoulder he had become so fond of. He tucked his head there. Mulder's muffled voice drifted softly to Badger's ear, "You can call me Fox, if you want to. You love me." 

It was said so sweetly, so trustingly, that Badger's heart constricted and he felt tears well up in his eyes. He put both of his arms around his lover and cradled him, grateful for this moment. Slightly rocking his precious lover, he stared at the little flames and said softly, "Yes, Fox, I love you." 

* * *

John Hopkins Hospital  
8:37 AM  
Dr. Sam Kasahara's Lab 

"Dr. Scully, what do they expect me to do? Recreate this horror? I won't be part of some freakish life-extension research." 

Scully looked up from her notes with a puzzled expression, and seeing Dr. Kasahara's troubled face, tried to piece together what he had just said. "Recreate the research? No. No. What we want is a list of likely ingredients, anything unusual so we can try to track them in the 70's and any thing current. Director Sikora and A.D. Skinner think this bunch might be gearing up for another run." 

Sam Kasahara sat down, "That's too close to regenerating the data." 

Scully shook her head, "Not really, it might not have even worked. Don't forget Mulder, he might still be carrying around an implant. We need to know what's it's for. They actually cut into newborn babies to press it behind the sternum. I'd like to know why and how. 

And that gel, I'd like to get the composition of that. See if there is a snowball's change in hell of reversing Mulder's color-blindness." Scully grimaced, She felt slightly guilty for the grief she had given Mulder about his awful ties, yet she mollified herself, if he was color-blind why wouldn't he stay with one color ties? Label them or something? Why hadn't he ever told her? 

Realizing that she had stopped talking and Sam was still looking at her expectedly, she continued, "None of us want to duplicate the formula in detail, just have threads to follow, to investigate. Like the Plexiglas, we have agents researching that lead now. Companies that sold Plexiglas, made to order, that kind of thing. If we're real lucky, maybe they can come up with a name and location. Director Sikora is convinced that the medical facility is still in existence, maybe still operating or getting ready to be put back in operation." 

Sam nodded his head, "OK,I understand. This is one of the most evil things I've ever heard of. I don't like thinking that there are people out there like this." Sam turned his head towards the desk she was working at, "Have Agent Mulder's hospital records from when he was returned, been found yet?" 

Scully got up and walked over to an ancient coffee machine and poured two cups of coffee grabbed a few sweetener packets and a couple of cream tubs and went to a small table near the lab's only window. She motioned for him to come join her. 

He walked over and took a seat and dug through the Equal packets and found one with real sugar and put it in his coffee. Scully was still creating the perfect cup of coffee and Sam leaned back, amused by her precision. One and a half tubs of cream and one half packet of Equal. She looked up as she started to stir her concoction and continued talking like their conversation had never lapsed. 

"The hospital records are gone, all his hospital records, probably destroyed. The FBI agents never saw the Mulder after his return. Pressure was exerted to close the case, take the parent's word that all was well. They said he was at a cousin's, that cousin doesn't exist. The FBI agents were more or less told to drop it. No foul, no crime. 

Mulder's memory is pretty much back and what he remembers is that they took him out of the tank and washed off the gel with water. He said it burned his skin, either the absence of the gel or the application of water to the skin, a chemical reaction maybe. 

He woke up in the hospital and said he had a really bad sunburn. His skin was red and blistered, his hair and eyebrows had fallen out. He stayed in the hospital for ten days. The only thing they did was to apply alternating cold wet towels and burn cream. They gave him pain killers so he could sleep at night." 

"Incredible, how is Agent Mulder doing?" 

"Fine, from what they told me. Dr. Grabbowski wants to get him here tomorrow. The doctor said that he and A.D. Skinner would accompany him." Scully looked at Sam trying to gauge how he was going to take the small invasion of FBI personnel along with his patient." 

"That will be fine. I would guess that Mulder is not too fond of hospitals. Having a bit of support will make things easier on all of us." 

Scully didn't realize that her eyes shown with relief. 

Sam sighed, why did every woman he was attracted to have an attraction to someone else. It was evident that Agent Mulder was important to her. Important to her how? His compassion for Agent Mulder's plight was not so well defined as it was two minutes ago. 

He looked at the fingers on her left hand to reassure himself that she was unattached. She choose that moment to raise her hand to tuck some errant strands of hair behind her ear. The gesture, so common, struck him as especially endearing. 

* * *

Hoover Building  
Black Room Video Observation Room  
Saturday 8:52 AM 

Noah walked into the observation room and sat down beside Keats and handed him a cup of coffee. "Is he doing anything?" 

Keats was staring at the video monitor, "Our little plan is not going to work. Look at him. He thinks he knows where he is and he not worried at all. The CIA must have a version of this room. He's figuring that his connections will save him. He's got to know that no paper work is generated in a Shield Interrogation, so who does he think will save him?" 

Noah took a sip of his cup of coffee and considered, "Only a very few of us know we have him. But once he is known to be missing, it will be interesting to see who will call asking about him." 

Keats held his coffee in his hands and enjoyed its warmth. He slouched further down in the folding chair arching his back and stretching out his legs. "I've been watching that man. This is not going to be easy. The man is the apotheosis of evil. He likes himself and knows exactly what he is. If I hurt him, he will endure it and smirk. 

An interrogation at this point would be nothing but entertainment for him. He's very dangerous and he knows it. If anybody gets close to him, he has the skills to kill them. He won't hesitate to try. If he gets free, he will not rest until he tracks us down and kills us. He's Mr. Destruction and he likes it." 

Noah glanced at Keats, "Good God, what do we do? Any ideas?" 

"He's got a big ego. It's blinding him to his real peril. He is not use to being put in a holding pattern. I think we ought to hit him where it hurts, his ego. But it will take longer. 

We should call in Ooka and put them in here to watch him. We turn off the red light in the video cam and let him think we're uninterested in him. He won't believe it at first. But, we'll ignore him. We'll let him get hungry and weak. We'll let him get thirsty enough to drink toilet water. We'll keep the temperature the same as it is now. Nothing to show him we're the least bit interested in him. 

If Director Sikora gives his approval, I want to stick Jeffery in there with him, after he's had his head in the toilet a few times. Jeffery might do better than we could." 

Noah stood up, "Do you think we have that much time." 

Keats stood up, "I don't think we have a chance of getting anything out of him any other way. Maybe not even with sticking Jeffery in there with him. However, he's off the streets and where we know where he is." 

Keats stood up and Noah said, "Let's get this cleared with Director Sikora." 

* * *

Skinner's condo  
Saturday 11:36 AM 

Skinner was catching up on reviewing some reports and e-mailing Reg and Kim. It was working surprising well working from his condo. The only thing missing was the bullshit meetings and agent meetings. It's would be near perfect if the agents could come here. He smiled at the thought, a home-based D.A. Well, he'd enjoy it while he could. He was jolted out of his meandering thoughts as Fox came rushing in waving a sheaf of read outs. "Badger! Badger! Look what I found!" 

Fox excitedly sat down on the ground beside Badger who was using the coffee table as a desk again. "Look, I went in and researched Nazi medical experiments and look what I came up with! In 1945 and 6, the U.S. government brought over Nazi scientists and some of them got deals. 

There was one project call Paperclip, the goal stated was for life-extension. American scientists were paired with the Nazis. Adam, that is Dr. Adam Kesstler was assigned to head the American team. Paperclip was halted and funds cut in 1948, after the project was deemed inhumane and immoral by the American over cite committee which had been put in place by congress for just this reason. To stop any Nazi inspired projects that were ethically defunct. 

It looks like some of the Paperclip members recruited people including someone powerful in the government, found a money source and continued the research. There's a picture, look, there is my father, Charles Spender, Dr. Karl Dandendorf and Dr. Franz Hein taken in 1968. According to the records, my father and Charles Spender were not part of the Paperclip team but were contract workers. I e-mailed the information to the Director with my conclusions. We have a list of eighteen additional people to check out. I'm sure a few are still alive. 

* * *

Bill Mulder's Residence  
Martha's Vineyard  
Saturday 2:23 PM 

The fat man was not going to be happy. Krycek sat and looked at the dead man. He had not meant to kill him so quickly. The idiot had no idea who had taken him, but he had broken, given up the pathetic little information that he had. But unfortunately had included his name. Shit. That was the end of his FBI career. 

The Consortium had managed to fake his psychological test scores and had been responsible for getting him in the FBI, he had been about to wash out when Spender had recruited him. Now all that was for nothing. He was not going to risk going back in the Hoover. 

Krycek needed to think. These assholes in the Consortium were not as good as they thought they were. The little scam they had him and Junior occupied with was pretty tame stuff considering how the fat man talked sometimes. 

As soon as he had been compromised and they knew they had him, they made sure he knew they had him by his balls. Krycek smiled. Oh, he was happy to let them fondle him a bit, but they had no idea who they had. He was either going to go the center of this group where the money was or he was going to wipe it out. 

He had killed before and had been surprised that he had felt nothing. No remorse, no angst. Perhaps the Zuni were right. He had read that the Zuni believed that you arranged your own death. Krycek liked that. Bill Mulder had been responsible for his own death, he was just an innocent tool of fate. 

Well, Spender was supposed to be here and wasn't, interesting. He was missing or had decided to cut his loses and get out. He'd go and see what the fat man said and if it was more bullshit, he'd kill the mother fucker and his pathetic body guard too. What ever happened he was no longer going to be an errand boy. 

* * *

Sikora Residence  
Saturday 4:09 PM 

Sikora sighed, he sat in front of his computer watching the screen saver. He had just watched the torture and execution of a man by an FBI agent. Bill Mulder was dead and Alex Krycek was a killer. And a cold-blooded one at that. He had actually sat there for five minutes watching the dead man, enjoying his kill from the look on his face. Christ! 

He immediately ordered Jeffery Spender taken into custody by Nava and placed quietly in an old holding cell block in the sub-level. Thank God, Nava had arrived, Ooka had had been working hard. 

They hadn't used that old cellblock in the sub-level in years. He ordered Sid to make sure one cell was capable of holding Junior or, if not possible, finding a secure and secret place to stick him. 

Ooka had done some fine work when they installed the video monitoring system in Bill Mulder's bedroom. It had only taken ten minutes, no sound, thank God, just the picture. Ooka had been monitoring it from here. 

Next he contacted Towers and Plant and advised them. The case was moving. The information that Mulder came up with was giving them a lot more avenues of investigation. But it had suddenly become more dangerous. 

Whoever first supported the rogue scientific research group in the government had been powerful, but was surely dead by now. How deep did the government connection go? Who shielded Charlie now? Did they have anything to do with the project? Shit. 

He needed to call Dr. Grabbowski. He'd let him tell Agent Mulder. Sikora leaned his head back, he had no idea how Mulder was going to deal with this. Maybe it would be a bit of good news. The man had been a monster. 

* * *

Black Room Video Observation Room  
Hoover Building  
Saturday 8:49 PM 

Keats leaned back in the chair as he watched Spender. He knew he was making the two on duty Ooka uncomfortable, but he had to do this. This man bothered him. He wanted to break this son-of-bitch. 

Nazis! Life-extension experiments using kids. Hurting kids, killing kids. Keats shuttered slightly. He recognized that man, or at less the type. A killer. An assassin. It was hard to hurt a killer like him because he was mostly dead inside. But this one had an ego, a huge one. He had been able to tell that just the way had acted when he had woke up. The self-satisfied smirk that washed over his face at times. He had to shine that ego somewhere. Where? No friends. Wasn't his family. Job? No, too secret. Where was his audience? He needed the man's address. They were bringing in the son. Was it possible that the son didn't even know? He probably didn't but he might be able to give him some additional insight. 

The common room/Guest room  
Hoover Building  
Saturday 9:02 PM 

Noah flipped through the pile of papers on the table. Incredible! Agent Mulder had found the root. Immortality or near to it. If one could live 200 years, why not 500?, It was a possibility worth killing for. It had been the motive for a lot of religious fervor, it was after all the great human hope, continued life, no one was comfortable with the thought that their own existence would simplify end. That they're time in this life was finite. Specially one of these bastards, whose prospects in the next life, by any god they would want to associate themselves with, was not too good. 

Noah liked the idea of hell. A final judgment, unencumbered by human rationalization. A way to make human monsters pay and pay. Where all the assholes' selective memories would be torn away and they would be forced to see themselves as they really were. Acknowledge the damage they had done. 

And if there was a hell, it was nice to think there was some sort of heaven where the victims would get another chance, where all the non-monsters, would get another chance. He sighed, it must be the Irish rising in him. He pulled his mind back from his speculations and concentrated on Spender's association with this group and his shadowy history with the government. Keats was right, this man was evil. 

One of the Ooka walked up to him, "Sir, Nava just called in, they've picked up Jeffery Spender." 

End of Chapter 13 

* * *

Chapter 14 

Guest Room common area  
Hoover Building  
10:20 AM 

Keats walked over to the table where Noah was sitting and sat down. Noah, looked up as Keats said, "How do we want to handle Junior. Is he anything like Daddy?" 

Noah leaned back, "I don't know. His file says he's twenty-five years old. Finished the basic course at Quantico a bit less that two years ago. Average. He should be out in some secondary office getting some field experience. Daddy is probably responsible for his assignment here. Junior showed no special aptitudes, but passed his courses. He graduated in the bottom fifth of his class. In college he did a bit better. He graduated in the top third of his class for his B.A. in anthropology." 

Keats stretched his arms over his head, "Maybe he tried to distance himself from Daddy, but couldn't pull it off. What's been done so far?" 

Sikora put him in an old, unused cellblock in the sub-level. Sid went in to make sure it was secure. He said it was eerie as hell. Junior was examined, his clothes taken away and given an orange jumpsuit from county lock-up. A couple of the Nava are setting up the video surveillance. They'll bring up the monitor to us here when they're finished." 

Keats got up and headed for the fridge, "Do you want some ice tea? I ordered in the tea you like and made it up this morning." 

"Ya, that would be great. How should we handle Junior? He shouldn't be too hard. Who are we going to be to him?" 

Keats returned with two tall glasses of ice tea and sat them on the table. He stretched again and sat down. "I think we are just two FBI agents who know he's been a bad little agent and see how he reacts. We let him know Daddy is in lock-up too. We press him in a conventional way and if he doesn't sing, then I 'll do my private dance with him, but I don't think it will be necessary." 

"We got to wear our suits, then." 

"Yes, Noah we have to wear out suits." 

"Damn." 

John Hopkins Hospital  
Baltimore, Maryland  
2:37 PM Sunday 

Mulder concentrated on breathing deeply, belly breathing as Dr G. called it. Calm, calm. He didn't want to flip out. He'd done enough of that lately. Shit. He was getting nauseous again. If Kasahara stuck one more needle in him, he was going to scream. No, breathe, in, out, in, shit. 

Dr. Kasahara bustled about making notes and checking off boxes. Scully and him had brainstormed and set up a series of tests for Mulder. Everything from muscle testing to bone composition. 

Kasahara even brought in Dr. Abrams to run tests and scans on Mulder's eyes. The doctors, including Scully had never slowed down. Now they were preparing the MRI sequence. Mulder wanted this over with. 

Dr. Grabbowski sat quietly in the corner, observing, Mulder was a bit shaky, but doing fine. Badger was being supportive as usual and trying to stay out of the way. They had been at it since 9:30 without more than a bathroom break. Badger had downed some coffee and a muffin or two, Mulder had drank a couple cups of ice tea, but hadn't eaten all day. Dr. Kasahara had assured him that the MRI sequence would only take forty-five minutes or so. 

* * *

Mulder was anxious to go. Anxious to go, but Dr. G was still talking to Dr. K. Shit. He wanted to get back to the safety and comfort of Badger's condo. He needed Badger's arms around him. He cautiously touched the small band aid on the left side of his chest where Dr. Kasahara had removed the implant. It was both liberating and somehow sad. He couldn't separate or quantify how he felt. He just wanted to go home, home with Badger. 

The trip this morning had been surreal and unsettling. He hadn't been outside in over a week. Skinner had driven. Skinner, funny, but once they had left the condo it was Skinner again. It was dark and as the markers on the highway passed by Mulder felt sad. The melancholy had deepened as the miles were ground under the wheels. 

They didn't talk. Dr. G was dozing in the back seat and every once in a while they could hear a soft snore. Mulder had leaned his head against the glass passenger window and had tried to will himself out of his sadness. He had laid his hand against his chest and wondered if the implant was there, wedged between God knew what, hidden in him all these years. His father was dead. Mulder had seen the dead. It was final. There was reprieve in the last act. No redemption. No happy ending. 

The thoughts of the early morning returned as he stood and waited for the doctors to be done, God, his father had sold him, before he was even born. What kind of man would do that? His profiler mind supplied all too many answers. The doctors' voice were turning into a buzz and Mulder turned towards a wall and leaned his head against the cool concrete block. Where was Badger? 

Badger was coming down the hall carrying some vender machine chips and candy for Mulder. He must be starved. Once they got out of here they'd stop and get something substantial to eat. 

As he entered the room and saw his lover he threw the vender junk on a table and rushed to Mulder's side. Shit. Was he back in a fugue state? Skinner angrily turned toward the cabal of chattering doctors and yelled in his most authoritative voice to shut the fuck up. 

Mulder turned to him and smiled. "I was just resting, I'm OK.", but his voice was just a tad shaky. Mulder lowered his voice for his lover and tried to steady it. "I want to get out of here, please." 

Skinner nodded his head determinately and turned around. "We're leaving. Dr. Grabbowski, if you're not in the car in five minutes, find your own way back to D.C." 

Skinner took Mulder's hand and led him to the door, scooping up their coats and vender bounty on the way out. 

"What the hell was that all about!" demanded Scully. 

"My incompetence, I guess. I should have been watching Mulder closer." spat out Marcus as he grabbed his coat and a small sterile container. He looked at Dr. Kasahara and said "Fax me and Director Sikora with the test results." 

The small sterile box contained the implant, which had been lodged against the cartilage of a rib adjacent to Mulder's sternum. It had been removed easily with a local anesthesia. It had taken seven minutes and four stitches. 

* * *

Marcus had ended up driving back to D.C. with Badger holding Mulder in the backseat. They had stopped at a Wendy's drive through and Mulder had managed to eat a small frosty. 

Marcus was not thrilled that he had been so distracted with his consultation with Drs. Scully and Kasahara that he had lost track of Mulder momentarily, but he learned a long time ago that he was human and made mistakes. He'd talk to them later. Right now he needed to drop them off and get to the Hoover with the implant. Director Sikora had arranged to have the Lone Gunman do the analysis to see what it was used for. 

* * *

Hoover Building  
Black Room Monitoring Room  
3:05 PM 

Keats and Noah watched Jeffery Spender cool his heels. The two monitors were side by side. One with Charlie and the other with his son. Charlie was still in his Buddah phase while Jeffery was striding around his cell. Jeffery had the aura of a righteously pissed off man impatiently waiting to be justly released. 

Keats frowned, "Jeffery has been demanding to see Director Sikora. Think we should ask why?" 

Noah stood up, "Ya, I think it's time." 

* * *

Keats was right, Jeffery Spender was pissed. Here he was working very hard on the his special assignment and someone had screwed up. Why wasn't his father here or why hadn't that fat pig, Arthur Welling, called and cleared it up. He didn't expect Alex Krycek, that one was out for only him self. Damn. He had assumed it was his FBI buddies who had him, but what if it was someone else. Damn, he was starting to get really scared. 

Finally Jeffery could hear footfalls coming down the hall, he stepped to the back of his cell and tried to calmly wait. 

Three men appeared, one opened the cell block while the other two entered. Both had FBI identification tags. Jeffery's indignation reasserted itself. 

"What the hell is going on? I want you to contact Director Sikora immediately. There's been some kind of foul up. I shouldn't be down here." 

Keats used his height advantage and invaded Jeffery Spender's space. "Agent Spender you are under arrest for espionage. You removed classified data from the Hoover. We have you on video. You have an explanation for this?" 

The young man shook his head in a negative response. "I can't tell you. I'm doing some special work. Director Sikora would know about it." 

Noah moved forward to further crowd young Spender. "Director Sikora has been contacted and has no idea why you should want to see him. Does this special work have anything to do with your father?" 

At Jeffery's startled look, Keats continued, "Your father is in lock-up too. Whatever he was doing with you and Agent Krycek was not sanctioned by the Bureau." 

Jeffery looked at Keats defiantly, "My father is a respected CIA agent and has the authority to recruit FBI or any other kind of agent for deep cover operations." 

Noah looked intensely at Jeffery, "There is no deep-cover operation. How well do you know your father, Jeffery?" 

Jeffery bent his head forward and chocked out, "He's my father, he wouldn't do this to me." 

Noah stepped back, "If we can convince you that the special operation that your father recruited you for was bogus, are you willing to cooperate with us?" 

Jeffery lifted up his face, his eyes were welling with tears, he already believed his father's betrayal. "Yes." 

* * *

Guest Room/common room  
Hoover Building   
5:34 PM 

Sikora, Marcus, Keats and Noah sat around a table in the common room, fingering cups of coffee. 

"Nava went to Welling's house. The body guard was dead and Welling is gone. Skinner and Mulder think that Welling might have been one of the original people recruited by Dr. Adam Kesstler as a money man. We froze his assets. Nava thinks that Welling might have been forcibly taken by Krycek. Forced to take him to the project's main facility." 

Noah bent his head forward checking some numbers on a read out in front of him, "I wouldn't give Welling much of a future when they find out he can't get to his money. Who are his beneficiaries? Have we checked for off shore accounts?" 

Sikora put his coffee cup down, "All that is being looked into. I expanded the investigation into Reg's office. The investigation has gone too far for one or two men to stop it. We have our eye on Jason Smith in the Justice Department and Darren Matthews in the CIA. 

Keats leaned in, "According to Jeffery, they're still interested in Fox Mulder. Do we know why?" 

Sikora took a sip of his coffee and looked down, "No, they might just want to get rid of him now, tie up loose ends." 

Noah interjected, "Why didn't they do that instead of warning him off?" 

"Charlie's doing. We don't know exactly," Sikora answered. 

Noah looked to the third pod door where Jeffery was sleeping with the help of a sedative. "What happens to Jeffery?" 

Marcus leaned back, "He was deceived by his father. The need for a young man to gain approval of his father is very powerful. John and I have decided that until this mess is over, he stays here. Then he will start a year's leave. He can take it all or just a month. I talked to him and advised that he should go back to school. Take a graduate degree in Anthropology and make sure what he wants to do. If he decides to come back then he will be assigned to an office other than D.C. and his slate will be clean." 

Keats stretched out his legs, "Can we use him with Charlie?" 

Sikora looked at Keats, "Only if you can keep him safe." 

Keats nodded his head, "I'm not about to put him in the cell with Charlie like we planned. I'm convinced that Charlie would look up into the video camera, smiling as he broke his son's neck. No, I've got another idea." 

Black Room  
Hoover Building  
10:51 PM 

Jeffery Spender, dressed in a suit with his FBI ID tag attached to his pocket stood ready to enter the Black Room. He had been prepared by Towers and Plant, but felt unsure that he would be able to stand up to his father. He never had before, but this was important. Innocent lives were at stake. He closed his eyes and let the horror of what his father had been involved in wash over him. Yes, he could do this. 

Jeffery was accompanied by two Ooka, to make sure he did not get too close to the cell. Keats and Noah, and even Marcus were unsure of how Jeffery would respond to his father emotionally. He had agreed to the script, but would he be able to stay with it? The script was a lot of guess work and conjecture, if they missed the mark, would Jeffery be able to think on his feet? It was a gamble, but Keats thought this might be their only way. 

Jeffery walked in to the harshly lighted black expanse and turned to look at his father as the two Ooka took their positions. 

His father had not moved, had not acknowledged him, no big shock there. 

"Hello father. I've been sent down to get answers from you, but I know what a useless objective that is. Do you expect rescue? I don't think so. The FBI knows too much about your little scam. Did you really think they would have shared anything? Prolong your life, why?" 

Charlie raised his head, "Your stupid, you've always been stupid." 

Jeffery smiled, "I'm not the one drinking out of toilets. You know they've replaced you. Alex Krycek has turned out to be a rather nasty piece of work. Did you know he completed your last assignment? Old Bill Mulder is no more. Expertly tortured and murdered. They don't need you anymore. Welling has gone off with Krycek. Any other resources you think you may have, have abandoned you. Now, you either take them down with you or you go down alone." 

Charlie stood up and came close to the bars of the cell. Charlie's voice was hoarse, "Do you think the good guys did this to me?" He raised his swollen right hand. "They broke my fingers! Use your head!" 

Jeffery was not moved. "Father you were a dangerous man. They have you under a Shield Interrogation, they are allowed by law to hurt you a lot more than that. I'd be careful if I were you." 

Jeffery reached into the pocket of his suit coat, his fingers brought out one cigarette. He flicked it to an Ooka and motioned him to throw it into the cell. 

"Father, you always were a weak man. Eat it and it will give you a bit of nicotine. Damn stupid of you to let yourself get addicted to that," Jeffery said disdainfully. 

Jeffery continued in a bored voice, "I'll be back in twenty-four hours or so for your answer. It doesn't matter to me, this has taken far to long as it is, I'm just glad I'm not playing double-agent or could you call it triple agent, any more." Jeffery paused, wishing this last bit was true. "And you call me stupid, you never had me fooled." 

* * *

Skinner's condo  
Sunday 11:41 PM 

Skinner put down the phone. He and Reg had been setting up numerous investigations based on the new information. He looked over at his lover. Fox had been quiet, but seemed contented as he snuggled on the couch with a coverlet wrapped around him. He was reading a fantasy adventure. 

Fox had said that the first five books had been good and very well organized. The author on the sixth one had gone a bit manic and had thrown threads of plot all over the place. He was currently reading the seventh book in the series and said that the author was trying to pull everything together, but was being less than successful. Fox said he was enjoying the struggles of the author to tie it all together. It matched his mood completely. 

Skinner had been surprised at Fox's lack of enthusiasm for doing any work on the case. But, maybe he needed a break from it. It had been a difficult day. 

Skinner walked over to the couch and sat down on the coffee table. "Are you ready for bed? I sure am. Reg and I set a lot of stuff in motion. Minor players and all that. How are you doing?" 

Mulder, lowered his book to his lap. "I'm doing OK. I have a lot of answers now. Maybe, I don't like the answers, but I'd rather know. I just need time to process them. Today is over, God, I never want to go through a day like this again. I'm happy to be here with you, but I feel so tired. I don't think I have the energy to get up to go to bed." 

Quickly, Skinner leaned in and caught Mulder and lifted him in a fireman's carry. With a chuckle in his voice, Skinner said, "This is the way I carried you up from the car when I brought you home from the hospital. Mulder laughed as he bounced against Skinner's back as they made their way upstairs. 

* * *

Monday 7:31 AM  
Skinner's condo 

Mulder looked through the peek hole in the door and his face broke out in a delighted smile. He whisked the door open and let Sid and Marcus in. Both were burdened with the assorted paraphernalia of Mulder's fish tank and fish. Since Sid had only one arm, his hand held a bucket with Mulder's fish. 

The tank was a twenty gallon fresh water. The fish were variations of gold fish. Marcus held the tank filled with new bags of stones ,new filter, stuff to treat the water and fish food. Marcus laid down his stuff and said he'd be right back with the stand. 

Mulder immediately filled the tank and put the stuff in to treat the water. He eagerly reached for the rocks and paused, they were beautiful little colored glass balls. Mulder smiled like a small boy. "Thanks, these are great!" He put in the filter and little tunnels. By that time, Marcus had made it back up with the wire stand. "Where do you want this?" 

Mulder looked over to Marcus, "I don't know. Badger will be down in a minute." Mulder had said it so naturally that Marcus almost hadn't picked up on it. Before he could say anything Badger came trotting down the stairs. 

"What have you got there?" 

"Sid and Marcus brought over my fish! Look at all the stuff they brought for them." He turned toward the two who were helping themselves to the bagels and cream cheese that Mulder had set out. "Thanks, guys. Coffee be up in a minute." 

Mulder turned expectantly towards Skinner, "Where can we put this? It's real nice when it's dark and you put the light on." 

Skinner looked at the tank with a bit of apprehension, "Your choice, Fox. The bedroom is fine or down here. Pick a place you'd like to watch it." 

Mulder glanced up the stairs, "How about the wall on my side of the bed? You've got a crate of books there now." 

"No problem, we can move them easy." 

Mulder, catching Badger's apprehensive expression, walked up to him and reached to grab Badger's hands in his. "What is it? What's bothering you?" 

Skinner had been looking at the empty tank and then looked back at Mulder.. "I wouldn't have thought you'd be fond of tanks." 

Mulder gazed back at him thoughtfully, "Well, I hadn't remembered before, but, in a fish tank there's only beauty and life." Mulder paused to make sure Skinner was looking at him and then continued with a smirk, "As long as you don't mess up with the kind of fish you put in there." 

And you're the one who has the power of life and death over what's inside, Marcus thought with a sudden flash of insight. Badger's candles and Fox's fish. Interesting. 

End of Chapter 14 

* * *

Chapter 15 

Monday Morning 6:23 PT  
Bio-link Body Systems  
Coldwater Canyon  
East of Beverly Hills, California 

Dr. Kyle DeLyria stood on the balcony of his condo on the top floor of his successful spa and looked at the fading lights of Los Angles. What a mess! His father had been right, Spender the spook was an idiot. If it hadn't been for him and his games, Fox Mulder would be dead and there would have been no disruption of their meager eastern connections. Now outdated, but still bringing in some money and giving some cover for questionable imports as well as having the potential to sanction some of their activities. Damn, a needless drain on the project. 

It looked like they were going to have to scrap the entire eastern operation. But, maybe it was for the best, they were nearing the final reconstruction of the project. They had a replacement for Bill Mulder, they had almost all their suppliers. Most importantly, they had access to enough babies. 

This time, being surer of the process, they were starting with twelve and then they were going to follow up with a complete set every two years until the four sub-basements were filled with tanks. Kyle and his father, Michael had over 300 ruthless, elitist workers who fervently believed that the drug would extend their lives, allowing them to outlive the unworthy masses. 

Kyle rocked on his heels. ell, the old fat money man was gone and Kyle was secretly relieved. The man had been a remnant of the old Paperclip contingent who had had political aspirations. That had been traded in for the goal of money accumulation and the gathering of power to do what they pleased. Let the politicos rant and rave as they were cheaply bribed to join the other sheep. Let them have the illusion of power and autonomy. The Washington connection could be reestablished with fresh people with no ties to the past. 

Kyle sighed as his eyes searched for the recently overturned mound of earth down the hillside, not yet visible in the morning light. Damn, that man had been huge, what a slug. That brought to his mind the viper that had brought Welling in, Alex Krycek. 

Krycek thought himself to be pretty dangerous. He probably was. Best to keep him busy. Kyle decided to send Krycek back east to tie up loose ends before anything could lead the FBI, CIA or whoever to the California headquarters. There were only nine left, including both Spenders and Fox Mulder. After Krycek was done then he could be eliminated too, the last loose end. 

Kyle smiled. There were only eight of them here who understood the real power of what they almost had. The product that the children could be forced to produce was not only life-extending, it was also addictive. 

The first set of boys had already been implanted and the girls would follow in a little less than four years. In twelve years they would be fully operational and in production. In fifteen years, the world would be theirs. Kyle eyes glittered as he thought about the powerful men and women who would come begging. 

First, they would offer the drug to those they had carefully chosen with the goal of expanding their reach. Once addicted, their chosen ones would do whatever they wanted and on it would go until the core of the new world ruling class was established. 

Black Room  
Hoover Building  
Monday Morning  
11:03 AM 

Charlie was ready to deal. He was willing to work for any side that would get him out. His idiot son had just left to get whoever was holding him. He was a valuable player and the bastards who were letting him rot in here were going to pay. 

Charlie's thoughts were interrupted as a very tall young man with a boyish face, dressed in a cheap FBI regulation suit, sauntered in. Piece of cake thought Charlie. 

Skinner's condo  
Monday afternoon  
2:23 PM 

Fox Mulder wandered around the condo aimlessly. It was the first time he had been alone in over a week. He felt relieved, but also a bit lost. Badger had gone into his office and Dr. G had gone to the Hoover too, to work with the Spender interrogation. 

He went up to Badger and his bedroom and closed the drapes and blinds so he could watch his fish. He laid across the bed which still smelled of Badger and their early morning love making. He watched the vibrant flashes of the fish as they darted in the water under the black light in the top of the tank. There was something pushing its way into his memory. A small bump of nothing was bulging, trying to erupt into his consciousness. 

He had remembered why they didn't kill him after they had taken him from the tank. After six days, he was already producing the 'product', but without the implant to act as a conduit, there was no way of extracting it. They were frustrated, he had been the first to start actual production and they couldn't get to it. 

They had kept him alive through the years and had experimented with different techniques of extracting the 'product'. All those unexplained hospital visits were now no longer a mystery. They had kept an eye on him in England and throughout his FBI career in hopes of reintroducing him to a tank. He shuddered at the thought. 

His tests hadn't shown anything the doctors could measure that was out of proportion. They still didn't have a clue as to what the 'product' was. Did it matter? Only to him. He pressed the four small stitches that marked the site where the implant had hidden and thought about what those ogres might have forced his body to do, what it still might be doing. Nothing he could do about it, but he would feel better if he knew. 

He relaxed and cleared his mind. He had to let the memory come, whatever it was. He stared at the fish tank and let his mind wander where it would. 

Black Room  
Hoover Building  
Monday 2:27 PM 

Keats let go of Charlie's forearm and let him slip to the floor. Charlie had found out he was not as tough as he thought. He had given up a lot of information, but unfortunately there was nothing they had not known or suspected. He had confirmed Jason Smith's and Darren Matthew's involvement, but only as men who would arrange things or cover up things for money. Spender had been given his orders by Welling. There were four other names, but none were in position to be much of a problem. 

Charlie was showing mental confusion from the lack of food and exposure. He was thoroughly chilled from lack of clothing and the cool temperature of the room. Charlie babbled on about some of the assassinations he had carried out. Bragged that he was the one who pulled the trigger on President Kennedy and on Jimmy Hoffa. Keats thought both were possible as Spender rattled off names of people he had worked for within the government, mostly dead, footnotes in a history text. 

Charlie was still deluded. He was talking like he was a co-conspirator, a player. The man had cracked and cracked deep. He was just another bully, just another hit man, just another pathetic psychopath who occasionally played at being human. Charlie had actually given Keats his address, so that Keats could fetch his novel he was writing. Ah, there was his ego audience. He was writing his exploits in a fictional form for the world to admire. Pathetic was not strong enough of a word to encompass the depth of this man's existence. 

Keats wondered what Sikora was going to do with him? It'd be impossible to go to trial with him, not with the stuff he was spewing. Send him to a sanitarium? Could any of them hold the bastard? Or would they quietly execute him? Might be the most humane way. Put the poor piece of shit down like the animal he was. Oh well, wasn't his problem, back to business. 

The only worthwhile reaction was to the name of Dr. Michael DeLyria. So, DeLyria was still a player and probably a major one. However, Calahand and Wiggins had been unable to come up with anything on DeLyria after 1975. He had gone underground. 

Keats pulled off his gloves and exited the cell. He motioned one of the guarding Ooka to him and ordered Charlie to be fed and given an orange jumpsuit. He knew that Charlie would become much more dangerous once he was fed and regained some strength, but there was nothing much he could do about it. 

Skinner's Office  
Hoover Building  
3:34 PM 

A.D. Kersh was circling Skinner's office and waving his hands while he ranted about the injustice of having to do Skinner's scud work while Skinner was off playing politics at Quantico. He sure hadn't cleared a case, and if there had been any worthwhile research done, it would have been shared with the other A.D.'s. 

When Kersh stopped to take a breath, Skinner jumped in, "How is your special project Director Sikora gave you coming along?" 

Kersh paused in his pacing and self-importantly turned to Skinner. "It's going well. Very covert, you know, really can't talk about it, even to you." 

Skinner nodded, trying desperately to keep the smile off his face. Kersh continued on, implying his special access to the Director and his own importance to the Director. Skinner sighed, he'd give the man three more minutes. 

Skinner's mind drifted to his lover. His lover. God how he liked that! He thought about Fox in their condo. Their condo! The fit was so good, even with all of this crap, it was so right. He was amazed how good it made him feel to know that Fox was waiting for him, that they would be making love tonight. Good God, he was getting hard. 

He was shaken out of his warm fuzzy thoughts by Kersh's irritated voice as it whined, "Are you listening to me!" 

Skinner sat up and refocused his attention on Kersh, "Sorry." Skinner looked up innocently, "Is there anything more, A.D. Kersh? I've got a lot of work to get done to catch up. Have you got the last budget proposals analyzed?" 

Kersh pursed his lips in that very unfaltering habit that he had. "I don't see why my department has to deal with your budget!" 

"You don't. Just hand over the paperwork once the analysis is done and I'll make the final decisions." 

"I am not your employee. Have one of your own people do it." 

"Director Sikora wanted you to do it." Skinner replied placidly. 

"Oh." Kersh sat down, defeated. "How about dinner tonight?" 

Skinner leaned back, "Sorry, I've got a commitment. How about lunch next week after I'm caught up here?" 

Kersh knew something was going on and he wasn't in the loop. This was totally unacceptable and he was totally pissed off. Skinner was in the thick of it, the prick. Kersh eased back into his mentor persona. He was at least fifteen years older than Skinner and used his age to try to manipulate Skinner. He couldn't afford to make an enemy of Skinner, the man had been way too successful, the lousy prick! 

Skinner slumped in relief once Kersh had closed the door behind him. God! What an asshole! But he was, under all the office politicking and petty ambition, amazingly, a decent A.D., at least in Fraud. Skinner had learned the hard way that it was much easier to let Kersh posture and rant for ten minutes than to try to avoid the man. Skinner got up and made his way to his secret door that led to the Guest Room. 

Skinner's condo  
Monday afternoon  
3:47 PM 

Fox lay curled up in a fetal position on the bed. He was struggling for air and trying to slow his breathing down at the same time. He was having little success, but he refused to give in to his body's reaction. He had remembered. It was just a small memory, not traumatic in itself, just in the association. 

He had been groggy and cold and had been laying on his back in the backseat of a moving car. He had been vacantly watching the stars up through the backseat car window and once in a great while, a dim streetlight would hide the stars as they passed by. The car rolled to a stop and a street sign came into view. It had said Coldwater Canyon Rd. He remembered he had started to burn. He remembered he had started to scream. He couldn't remember anymore. Coldwater, what a horrid name. 

Guest Room  
Hoover Building  
4:03 PM 

Skinner entered the Guest Room and wandered over to the fridge and grabbed a diet coke. He had only started drinking after he saw that Fox liked it, liked it better with a slice of lime. He'd pick up some lime on his way home, or maybe he could borrow one from here. He stooped lower to look in the fridge to see if he could locate some limes. Ah, ya, there were a couple in the back. Where there was liquor, there were usually lemons and limes. He'd pick up one before he left. 

When Skinner's head emerged from the fridge, Wiggins was barreling right for him. Wiggins was built like a fire plug. Short and stocky and for him, coming at top speed. The young man was visually excited. Wiggins let out short staccato beat phases with every other foot fall as he hurried across the large room. "Sir! Director Sikora is on his way down! We have a break! Agent Mulder just called it in! Another memory! We might have a location! Agent Callahan is starting the research. I'm gathering Agents Towers... and Plant." 

Agent Wiggins rapped sharply at Plant and Tower's pod and yelled the news again through their door. Director Sikora and Sid came in and seated themselves at the round table. Skinner came up and seated himself. "Sir, I'd like to go back to the condo to check on Agent Mulder." 

Sikora shook his head, "I need you here. I sent for Dr. Grabbowski." Sikora looked up and saw the undisguised look of concern on Badger's face. He continued softly, "Badger, he called it into me and he sounded fine. A bit shaky, but coherent and even a bit excited. Dr. Grabbowski will call if he's concerned at all. OK?" Skinner nodded and looked down. 

Sikora had his secure phone at hand and handed it to Skinner. "Have Kim set up a conference call with SAIC Keswick in LA. I've got Kana headed to LA and will be sending out Nava tonight. Skinner nodded and made the call while Sikora and Sid looked over a satellite map. 

"Sid, as soon as it gets dark, I want heat enhanced photos. I want to see if there is any underground structures." Sid bent and folded up the map. "I'll call General Minami, he owes us a favor. How many sweeps? Two or Three?" 

"Two ought to do it for now. Tell him to fax them ASAP, no protocol." 

"Right." Sid reached for another secure phone. Noah and Keats arrived at the table and took a seat as the phone rang. Kim's professional voice came from the speaker unit, "Sir, I have SAIC Keswick holding on the secure line. Do you want me to connect him now?" 

Sikora leaned back, "Yes, Kim and thank you." 

Keswick's baritone barked out of the speaker and Sikora reached to turn down the volume. "Sir, Keswick here." 

Sikora answered, "Hello Amos, hope you're well." 

Keswick replied, "Fine, Sir." 

Sikora, the preliminaries out of the way, leaned forward, "Amos, I'll catch you up later, just listen closely. A.D. Skinner, Agents, Stein, Towers, Plant, Calahand and Wiggins are here. We have been working a very unique case that has roots in the mid-forties and involves Agent Mulder. You worked with him before?" 

"Yes, Sir. I can't believe he'd be involved with anything illegal, Sir." 

"He's not, but he is a source of information. We have reason, through Agent Mulder, that some sort of lab or such is located on or near Coldwater Canyon Dr. I want you to quietly, very quietly start to get together an assault force. I'm sending Nava and Kana to help organize. Make sure you have confidence in everyone you choose. Start with a contingent of fifty. 

We have a fly by tonight and hopefully we'll have an exact location and size by later tonight. I'm sending A.D. Skinner and Agent Fox Mulder on to California tonight. Also Agent Dana Scully, Dr. Sam Kasahara and Dr. Marcus Grabbowski will be coming sometime tomorrow. Agents Calahand and Wiggins will be coming tonight, if they get a flight, or tomorrow. They will need a work room set up with three computers hooked up to the security net. Get secured rooms ready for them and up to twelve additional agents. I want them all inside the bureau, is there enough room?" 

"Yes. What's going on?" 

"Agent Keswick, I need to brief you later on this. I'll contact you in about another two hours. I need to set up a few more things here. Talk to you a then." 

As Sikora switched off the speaker, Calahand leaned forward and broke in excitedly, "Coldwater Canyon Rd. and the surrounding area is relatively small. Large estates and a few resorts and one huge spa. The building for the spa was built in 1942. It has been added onto and worked on many times. Most of the blueprints are missing. I traced some of our key items to it. It looks like a good possibility. It's called Bio-link Body Systems and is run by Dr. William Barnes. Before him it was run by Dr. Mason Reynolds. Both look like alias'. 

I can't run them back through med-school. I can however run Michael DeLyria through the mid-seventies where he drops out of sight. Mason Reynolds is a good match for an alias as far as dates go. I have a birth certificate for Kyle DeLyria in 65', but he drops out of sight after junior high school and pops up in medical school and disappears again. As far as age, he's a good match for Dr. William Barnes. No pictures are available, just general bio. Dr. Barnes has no record of a medical degree but a Kyle DeLyria has, one from the Philippines. This really looks good!" 

Skinner broke in, "This is a day spa? How many employees?" Calahand looked over to Wiggins, "Have you got that?" 

Wiggins flipped a few pages of his papers and looked up, "It is a day spa, but some of the employees do rent rooms. They have listed one hundred and twenty-two employees, fifty-four of them live there. Mostly massage therapists, aromatherapy providers and such. Some administrative and maintenance people. I haven't cross checked to see which live at the spa." 

Calahand nodded, "Anything more right now, we'll get started on gathering up more information." 

Sikora looked at them, "Good job, both of you. Grab your laptops and a few changes of clothes from the drawers over there. Get down to National and get on the first plane to LA you can manage. Get to the bureau, Agent Keswick should have your work space for you by then." 

Sikora turned to Sid, "Go pack a bag and call Daisy and have her pack a bag for Marcus. Go get Mulder and Marcus and come back here. I'll have Kim get the jet squared away. How about Jamerson and Lecton to pilot?" 

"Sounds good to me. I'm off then, see you both later." 

As Sid left, Noah looked questionably at Sikora. "What about us boss?" 

"Grab your duffle bags, you'll be coming with us. The plane's an eight seater so we'll have just enough room. You two are going to be busy. You'll be working with a set of target questions. We need to interrogate them all. Time is not an issue here, thoroughness and consistency is. I want them all done by you two. Calahand and Wiggins will be doing back ground checks and anything else you need." 

Guest Room  
Hoover Building  
Monday 5:41 PM 

Sid, Marcus and Mulder entered into the Guest Room laden with numerous sacks of Chinese take out. Skinner rushed over to help Mulder deposit the sacks onto a counter and drew him off into Keat's and Noah's cleaned out pod and locked the door. Skinner pulled Mulder into a hug and spoke softly into his ear. "How are you holding up? God, I missed you today." 

Mulder found his favorite hollow in Skinner's neck and burrowed in and mumbled, "I'm OK, but I want this to be over. I need this to be over. I don't want to think about any of this anymore. I just want to go home with you." 

Skinner held him a bit tighter, "Soon, baby, soon. Things are beginning to roll. Are you going to be OK?." 

Mulder pulled his head back so he could look into Badger's face, "I don't know, Badger. I think sometimes that I'll fly apart any second and then a minute later, I'm kind of disconnected. One minute I feel rage and the next minute, I could care less. I've read about this but experiencing it is awful. I've been taping myself talking about all of this, it should be interesting to listen to when I'm sane again." 

Mulder tucked his head back in Badger's neck hollow. He took comfort in how perfectly they fit together. Mulder pulled Badger even closer and said with a slight edge of desperation, "Be patient, don't give up on me, it's going to take a while to flush all this shit out of me. Don't let me wreak this." 

Badger started rubbing Fox's back as he held him tightly. He bent his head to Fox's ear and softly spoke, "I love you. Sane or whatever, doesn't make any difference to me. I love you. Be patient with me, Fox. I love you and, if you love me, hang on to me and I'll hang on to you and we'll be fine." 

Badger heard Fox's muffled voice, "I love you." Fox pulled away from Badger and grinned in his face. "I'm famished, let's get something to eat before it's all gone." Badger lightly brushed Mulder's lips with his. "Ya, let's eat." 

The food was set out on the counter buffet style and everyone was filling their plates, most for the second time. Sikora caught Skinner's attention and hollered across the room that their plane was leaving in twenty minutes so they better eat fast. Mulder shuddered slightly and squared his shoulders as he reached for a plate. Skinner came up behind him and whispered, "Hang in there, I'm right here with you." Mulder looked back at Skinner and nodded his head, he couldn't speak and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. 

Mulder filled his plate, he was so hungry but he knew he couldn't eat now. He was thinking about going out to California, out to the genesis of all his nightmares. He didn't realize that he was standing, shaking, while he held his plate uselessly in his hands. 

All of a sudden Badger was leading him to a table, talking to him, what was he saying? Why was he telling him about the migration of monarch butterflies? 

Soon they were sitting and Mulder started eating by rote as he increased his focus on Skinner. Finally, slightly exasperated about Skinner's sudden fascination with butterflies, blurted out, "Where the hell did you pick up all that mind clutter and why the hell are you sharing it with me?" 

Skinner grinned, glad that he had Mulder's attention directed outwards again. Skinner looked around him and then leaned in towards Mulder and said with conspiratorial voice, "I have this wonderful lover, who, when he is in coital bliss, always gives me these little mini lectures while he talks himself to sleep. I hang on his every word. I've learned so much!" Skinner couldn't stop himself from chuckling. "He watched Mulder's eyes widen as he had listened in bewilderment." 

"I do not!" he urgently whispered. 

Skinner leaned back and said, "Roll your tapes." 

As the seconds passed, Mulder's skin took on an unmistakably reddish hue. 

Skinner leaned forward and grasped one of Mulder's hands under the table and squeezed it. "I love you. You are wonderful. I love your little lectures, free association brought on by our lovemaking. It's wonderful. If you start talking about hemlock or guns, I might start to worry. God, you are so unique, so one of a kind. Now eat, we've only got ten minutes. Remember we've got to hang on to each other. Eat." 

Mulder grinned and clumsily picked up a forkful of noodles with his left hand. Badger had his right hand and he didn't want it back. 

End of Chapter 15 

* * *

Chapter 16 

Burbank Airport  
Monday 7:09 PM 

Amos Keswick paced as he impatiently waited for the plane. What the hell was going on? He paused and looked across at Agent Taylor who had impersonated Agent Mulder for the last week. Taylor was back from the bogus case of nibbling fish at Big Bear, but Agent Taylor didn't have a clue why he had been impersonating Mulder except he had been told to use extreme caution. That, Taylor had said, indicated someone was after Mulder and the Bureau wanted to make it appear Mulder was elsewhere. Duh. Some of these younger agents thought your brain stopped functioning at forty. 

Keswick shrugged and started to pace again. He was uncomfortable. He didn't like how this was developing, whatever this was. Whatever it was, it was big, and that meant dangerous, and that meant that he was likely to lose agents. He hated that. 

Director Sikora was bringing out the big guns. It had the feeling of going to war. Against who? Nava and Kana were made up of very weird people, super-duper special forces. It had not been pleasant to have them organizing his people into an assault force. Shit. What had he missed. What had been going on right under his nose that was so huge and he hadn't even caught a shadow of it? Shit. 

And joy to be heaped on top of all this shit, he was going to meet A.D. Skinner. Wonderful. 

LA FBI Bureau  
Monday 8:53 PM 

The group of rooms that were set aside for the influx of FBI personnel from the east were a series of third floor offices set up with bunk beds. Director Sikora was fortunate and had been given SAIC Keswick's office, outfitted with a double bed. Next door was a small conference room, outfitted with a single bed for Sikora's aide, Sid Stein. As for A.D. Skinner, he was in a small break room in which another single bed was installed. The L.A. Bureau was not equipped to act as a hotel. Usually, people were put up in hotels. Keswick figured they all would survive. 

Keswick slumped further into a chair in yet another conference room waiting for everyone to settle in and start the debriefing. He was anxious to know what all this was about, anxious to know what he was sending his agents into. In all his years at the Bureau, he had never seen an operation like this. He looked over checking to make sure the sandwiches were there along with a cooler of soda. So mundane. So surreal. Keswick straightened up as he heard foot steps in the hall headed his way. 

* * *

LA Bureau  
Briefing Room  
11:51 PM 

Sikora spread out the aerial photos. Half of them were heat sensitive and showed that Bio-link Body Systems had at least four subbasements that had active personnel on during the night. On the second it appeared to be rooms where the employees stayed. The third floor had only two people inhibiting it. 

Sikora looked up, "We need a team in there today to map out the building. I think those sub-basements are always occupied. Any ideas?" 

Dan Regis of Nava spoke up, "Sir, my team can map the sub-basements, more or less with heat sensors, just follow the people. Of course, unused rooms might be missed, but we would have a general idea. We can set up the equipment and let it run and then take the data and generate a map within ten minutes. Using this equipment, we don't need to send anyone in before the take over." 

Sikora sat down, "How long do you need to let it run?" 

Regis answered, "Twenty-four hours would be optimal, but six will be workable with the size of the assault team. But we need an idea of what kind of weapons they have if any." 

Skinner put down a sandwich and slid a paper towards him. "Have you heard from the Lone Gunmen?" 

Keswick nodded his head, "Ya, they say they've got the security figured and can disarm it anytime we want. They even planted a small camera on the belt buckle of a guy who works in the sub-basements. Sort of a spur of the moment thing. 

Mr. Langley was almost knocked over by the gentleman and he took exception to it. He slapped a camera on his belt buckle and hoped for the best. It isn't working anymore, must have fallen off, but no weapons were seen, just a lot of scientific looking machinery. They've got fourteen minutes of tape. Haven't seen it yet, but they'll bring it in later." 

Kris Suetic of Kana leaned back, "All the assault force is ready. When do you want to do this. We need an approximate time so we can time rest and food for the assault force. Don't want them lethargic from too recent food intake or have their alertness impaired from lack of sleep." 

Sikora leaned his head back and rubbed a hand over his head. His voice floated towards the ceiling, "0630 hours tomorrow morning, we will secure the building and start the interrogations." 

Sikora sat straightened his head and looked directly at Keswick, "Any idea where we're going to put all these people?" 

"I've got it arranged with INS. They're letting us use one of their detainee facilities near the Burbank Airport. It's an old Lockheed factory that they've revamped into a secured facility. It can hold up to three hundred people and even has three interrogation rooms. If our count is right, we should detain around two hundred, I don't think all those people milling around the sub-basements are listed as employees. We'll pick up people in the morning as they are coming in. We need to make sure that nothing appears wrong." 

Sikora nodded, "OK, Agents Plant and Towers get over to the Lockheed facility and set up. You might as well try to set up some kind of sleeping quarters there. I doubt either of you are going to have time to commute. Agents Calahand and Wiggins will stay here, but will be running background checks. Any questions?" At the negative shakes of their heads, Sikora said, "OK, gentlemen, you can be on your way." 

Sikora turned back to the rest of the people around the table, "Well, gentlemen, if there is nothing else, let's all try to get some sleep. 

Skinner's Quarters  
FBI Bureau LA  
Tuesday  
4:48 AM 

"You are not going on the assault and that is that! And don't you dare think about going Maverick on me!" 

"Badger, please, I need to do this!" Mulder shouted. 

Skinner turned towards Mulder and grabbed him by his biceps. He put all his authority in his voice and said in a low, ominous voice, "Listen Agent Mulder, I am speaking to you as your superior, your AD. You will listen and obey me or you will be out of the bureau. Do you understand?" 

Mulder tried to pull away. Mulder bent his head so Badger couldn't see his eyes which were beginning to tear. He could feel the rage building, if Skinner didn't let go of him soon, he was going to make him let go! 

Skinner felt Mulder's muscles tightening, "Agent Mulder, this operation needs you in another capacity. We need you to go through that building and see if that's where you were. We need you to see the suspects and see if you recognize them. We cannot afford for you to get injured in the assault. You are the only one who can make some of these ID's. You've got to think like an FBI agent right now." 

Skinner felt the muscles of Mulder's arms relax. Skinner started to rub Mulder 's biceps up and down. "Baby, Baby, you've been so strong, I'm so proud of you. I can't tell you how much I admire you. Do you trust me? Are you willing to let me lead in a professional situation? You've got to let me lead, I can't fight you, I'm not strong enough to say no to you for very long. I'll leave the bureau before professional power plays pull us apart." 

Mulder looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, he stuttered, "You'd leave the bureau?" 

Skinner nodded his head, "In a minute." 

Mulder put his hands around Skinner's waist and pulled him close and burrowed his head in Skinner's neck. "OK. In bureau business, you lead, but I still get to challenge." 

Skinner held Mulder close and spoke softly in Mulder's ear, "Deal, but no running off on your own." 

"Deal." 

Lockheed Holding Facility  
Tuesday  
9:32 AM 

Mulder sipped his coffee. The assault had turned out to be anti-climatic, it had only taken forty-five minutes to secure the building. The security guards had been armed, but were not well trained. Five spa personal were slightly wounded and the FBI had had only one agent injured when he tripped and fell down a few stairs. 

Agents were now going through all the rooms to document the contents. Everyone who had been in the building had been transported and were being searched, dressed in detainee jumpsuits and deposited in cells. 

Soon one of the Nava would come and collect him to make identifications. He had been instructed to walk past the cells, stop if he must, but say nothing. If he recognized someone from his stay, he was to put a mark on the side of the cell. ID for important doctor, D for doctor, N for nurse, IP for important person and ? If he saw a remembered face but had no context to put it in. He had heard no names, none that he could remember anyway. Maybe some were buried in his little bumps of nothing. 

After he was done with that he would be taken to the spa to look over the building. Mulder took another sip of coffee, he marveled how calm he was. He had gone numb. He figured it was good, but on some level it scared him. It felt like if he closed his eyes, he would fall into the Nothing and disappear, become nothing. 

Dr. Grabbowski entered the room and poured himself a cup of coffee and came to sat down next of Mulder. "They're almost set, about another fifteen minutes or so." 

Mulder nodded, "You going to accompany me, Doctor G.?" 

"Yup, both here and at the spa. After we get back from the spa, then we'll go through the people that they picked up while they were coming to work. Sikora was finally satisfied that all the people were picked up and put a "closed, due to unsafe structural building problems" sign. 

Mulder leaned back and closed his eyes, he didn't realize that his hands which were holding his coffee mug were shaking. 

* * *

Twenty-seven minutes later, Agent Dan Regis of Nava came to the door, "We're ready. Follow me please." 

Marcus stood up and waited for Mulder, who slowly and carefully put his coffee mug down. He visibly gathered himself and stood up ready to go along with Marcus and Regis. As Mulder stood up, Regis walked up to him and handed him a red marker. 

"Did you get the memo from Agent Towers?" 

Mulder nodded his head and took the red marker. Regis turned and lead them out the door and down a long corridor and down a flight of stairs. After another long corridor, they came to a locked door. Regis knocked in a pattern and was inspected through a small window inserted in the door. The door then opened and allowed them to gain access into a block of cells. 

Marcus looked over at Mulder and didn't like what he was seeing. Mulder looked very stiff. Damn, Mulder didn't need to confront the monsters from his past all at once, but there wasn't any way to avoid this. 

Mulder had surprised him with his strength. Marcus and Sikora were betting that Mulder could handle this. They slowly walked down the corridor between the cells. 

So far, nothing. Mulder walked slowly and looked into each cell on either side of him. If the prisoner's face was not visible, Regis would request the person to turn in their direction. It was slow going. Each cell block had a double row of twelve cells. They had gone through two of them with no results, forty-eight strangers. 

In the third cell block, Mulder stopped and for the first time he uncapped the red marker. With a shaky hand he wrote a N beside a cell and walked on. This cell block held seven people he recognized. 

Half way through the fourth cell block, Mulder stopped and started to tremble. He was looking at an old man, gaunt and sharp looking. A small man whose eyes glittered with a cold hate. Mulder hand shook as he wrote a ID next to the cell. 

And on it went. Mulder had put notations on eleven cells by the time they had stopped and were ready to go to the facility. 

* * *

Bio-link Body Systems  
Tuesday 12:36 PM 

Agent Scully and Dr. Kasahara met Marcus and Mulder at the front door of Bio-link Body Systems. Scully looked at Mulder and the concern shown on her face. Mulder was flat. His face so usually animated, was now expressionless. His greeting was non-existent. Marcus quickly caught her eye and motioned her to leave Mulder alone. She put her concerns on the back burner and addressed them. 

"We've found tanks in one of the sub-basements and some of the green gel in gallon containers, ah, four gallons in all. We sent samples to get analyzed. The computers and any papers that are found are being put into one room so the agents can sort through them and collect what's important. The Lone Gunman are checking the computers that were in Dr. Barnes' and Dr. Reynolds' rooms and offices." 

Marcus nodded, but Mulder didn't respond. Scully and Sam lead them to an elevator. Scully continued, "Director Sikora said Agent Mulder didn't have to tour the whole facility, just the floor that we found the tanks on." 

Again, no response from Mulder other than following Scully's lead. They entered the elevator and descended three floors. The hallway they disembarked on was sterile, with glaring white lights. They silently walked down the hallway to a secured door. Scully reached in her pocket and withdrew a key and opened the door. Sam went in first, then Scully. Marcus maneuvered Mulder so he would enter ahead of him. 

The room was at least 800 square feet. It held twelve tanks. All were empty except for wires and tubing. Mulder looked around and then walked up to one of the tanks and placed the palm of his hand against it. After a few seconds, he bent forward and leaned his forehead against the Plexiglas. Marcus walked up to him and softly asked, "This is where it happened?" 

"Ya, I think so." Mulder glanced around, "That door should lead to a small room. The room they took me to wash off the gel." Without waiting for anyone to follow him, Mulder started for that door. 

Mulder opened it. How was it possible that it looked the same? The one metal table, an autopsy table, was still there. The sinks and water hoses all present, looking just like they looked all those years ago. Mulder felt sick, before he knew it, he had raced to the sink and started throwing up. 

Mulder turned on the water and made an attempt to rinse down the sink. Then he rinsed out his mouth by cupping water in his hands. He shakily straightened up and turned around. "This is the place. I'm sure of it." 

Mulder strode past them and went through the door. He increased speed as he made his way across the large room with the tanks. His head was down and he had his hands curled into fists. Marcus watched him and thought, oh shit. 

Marcus, Sam and Scully broke into a trot to catch up with Mulder. They didn't make it. The elevator doors closed before they got to it. Marcus looked around for the stairs. Shit. He decided to wait for the elevator, it would be faster than racing up three floors. 

Scully called over to Marcus who was twenty feet down the hall returning to the elevator, "Dr. Grabbowski, one of the agents on the first floor will keep an eye on Mulder and not let him wander off." 

As it turned out, Mulder had hit the first floor running and never stopped. He was dressed in jeans and sweatshirt. The agent who was pacing him was still in assault kaki and boots. Marcus, Scully and Sam jumped into Marcus' government issued car and started after Mulder and the poor agent who was running after him. 

They passed the agent running after Mulder and continued after Mulder. They could see him running fast and recklessly down the steep Canyon Road. 

Marcus pulled the car in front of the running man and leaped out and started towards Mulder. Mulder looked at them in a panic and without recognition. Marcus tried talking with him but was not getting through. With a bit of maneuvering, the three were able to get close enough to grab him and restrain him. 

Mulder started to desperately fight. He screamed and struggled without skill like a child. Marcus, Scully and Sam wrestled him to the ground. Mulder's screams had degenerated into frantic pleas of "No". Scully and Sam were having trouble immobilizing him and Marcus, with his ever ready hypothermic, drove in and pulled Mulder's jeans down as far as he could and gave him an injection of a strong sedative high on the hip. 

By the time the agent who had been chasing after Mulder arrived, Mulder was just about under. The agent stopped and was breathing heavily, he bent over and tried to catch his breath. "Shit, that guy can run fast! Is he OK? Can I help get him into the car?" Marcus looked up and nodded his head yes. 

Marcus shoved himself into the backseat with Mulder. "Drive Mulder and me back to the bureau. You three can take the car and drive back here." Sam nodded his head and started the car. 

On the drive back to the bureau, Marcus was busy upbraiding himself. He couldn 't believe how stupid and devoid of intuition he could be at times. When he had prepared the hypo he had expected to have to use it while Mulder was identifying people, not the facility. He should have known the facility would hold much more terror for Mulder than the people. The people would have changed through the years, at best they were distorted nightmare visions. But the facility stood unchanged, ready to ensnare him again. Shit. He should have known. 

It wasn't that important for Mulder to identify it. He could have said no, could have saved Mulder from this. Shit. He should have known. He..should...have...KNOWN! Shit! Hell, he had helped move Mulder's fish tank. He should have known. The mantra kept up all the way back to the bureau. 

* * *

Agent Keswick was busy shuffling reports on the prisoners when Dr. Grabbowski and Dr. Kasahara came in holding Mulder between them with Agent Newman and Dr. Scully trailing behind, looking very concerned. 

Agent Keswick rushed over to them and pulled out his cell and ordered the infirmary to bring down their one stretcher. Sam and Marcus sat down on a couch and held Mulder between them. Keswick looked down at them and was surprised to see the look of guilt on Dr. Grabbowski's face. 

"What happened?" 

There was no answer for a few seconds and then Agent Scully, who still seemed a bit shaken, answered, "Agent Mulder verified that the spa is where he was held as a child. It upset him. Dr. Grabbowski found it necessary to tranquilize him." 

Held as a child! Damn, that is one little detail that Director Sikora hadn't mentioned to him. He turned to Agent Newman, "Rick, go find A.D. Skinner. Tell him to meet us at the infirmary." 

* * *

Once Mulder was on his way and Agent Newman and the two doctors were headed back to the spa, Keswick went in search of Director Sikora. He was going to get all the details or else Sikora was going to find the LA Bureau on strike. Hell, it was his people working this. Keswick marched down the hall and a hapless agent turned the corner and stepped back when he saw the look on Keswick's face and the forward roll of his shoulders. It was not to safe to interfere with Keswick when he looked like that. 

* * *

Skinner rushed up to the infirmary which was on the fourth floor. Once there, it was quiet and Mulder was laying in a hospital bed. There were no tubes, no monitors, only Dr. G taking Mulder's pulse. Skinner sighed in relief. 

"What happened?" 

Marcus looked up and then bowed his head as he fussed over Mulder. He told Skinner everything in a weary, guilt filled voice. Marcus wearily concluded with his mantra, "I should have known." 

Skinner learned over Mulder and brushed his hair off his eyes and bent over and kissed his forehead and then turned back to Marcus. 

Skinner walked up close to the doctor and put his hand on his shoulder, "Marcus you're not infallible and by now, you've got to be tired. Stay with him and call me when he wakes up. Don't get sidetracked. You've been such a help to him, to me." 

"He didn't need to be put through that." 

Skinner looked back at Mulder, noticing the scrape marks on the side of his face from the struggle to subdue him. "Maybe he did, maybe seeing it in reality will defuse his nightmares." 

Marcus looked up, "Ya." The doctor knew better, he knew the event had probably reinforced them. Shit." 

* * *

Mulder slowly came awake and just listened to his heart beat, concentrated on his breathing, but his mind kept going back to those rooms, kept going back to the time he was laying, submerged, in that ooze. God was he ever going to get past this? He could feel his pulse rate accelerating, felt himself start to sweat, God, he felt like he was going to implode. He heard someone whimpering and wished they would shut up. He had no idea it was himself. 

Mulder was falling into a nightmare despite his attempt to calm himself, he felt like he was falling and was powerless to stop it. Then, magically, he was sitting up and pulled into Badger's arms. Badger tucked Mulder's head into that wonderful niche in his neck that his lover was so fond of. Mulder took deep breathes and steadied his breathing pattern. Mulder loved the way Badger smelled and was soothed by it. 

Finally, Mulder heard Badger's words of comfort. The words were no longer a jumble of sound. Now he could feel Badger's hands rubbing his back. Mulder lifted his arms which felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each and pulled Badger even closer. He started sobbing, or at least his body did. Somehow his emotions weren't connected with his body. All he knew was that he had to hang on to Badger. If his lover was here, no one would be able to hurt him. 

* * *

Skinner carefully laid Mulder back down in the bed. He had finally fell asleep. That crying jag had probably been good for him, but Skinner felt wrecked. He stood back and for the first time, doubted he had enough strength to get through this. Get through all the angst to come in order to get this behind them. Could it ever be put in the past? Skinner took a step back and just looked at his lover. He let the tears fall, thinking he needed the release, but once the tears started, he found himself sobbing. 

He hadn't done that since he was six years old. Hadn't felt this type of despair since he had stood looking at his great aunt's body as it lay in her coffin at her funeral. No one had been able to comfort him, because he knew that there was nothing he could do, nothing he could do to fix her. 

Skinner was terrified that they wouldn't survive this, but he was determined that they would go down together, if it came to that. 

End of Chapter 16 

* * *

Chapter 17 

Lockheed Detention Center  
Wednesday 2:36 PM 

Keats wearily flopped onto the floor of a break room which was covered with four single mattresses. God, he was tired, but they had whittled their detainees down to 66. All the others had been freed with cover stories and gag orders. 

The 66 left were all active players who were using their expertise for kidnapping and killing children for their own benefit. It was a lot more complicated than that, but Keats was too tired. He needed some rest before he tackled the DeLyrias, again. The rotten core of the group. Damn it, Keats was worried he was too tired to fall asleep. Where was Noah? 

Keats didn't have to wait long for an answer. Noah stumbled through the door and fell down beside Keats. "Hi, babe. Got them all relocated in the first four cell blocks. We need to get some sleep. I locked the door and one of the Nava will be pounding on it in three hours." 

Keats rolled over and snagged another pillow, "Did Mulder tag any one in the last group?" 

Noah shrugged out of his tee-shirt. "Na, only the original eleven." 

"OK, we'll concentration on the eleven. Sikora called. He wants to know if either the DeLyerias could reconstruct the experiment without their records. I think we're safe on that." 

Noah tugged off his suit coat and started pulling at his tie, "Ya, the DeLyrias are a disappointing set of villains. Elitist, egomaniacs, bullies and definitely evil, but not very smart. I'm convinced there are no copies of the records elsewhere. They kept everything at the spa. The back up records are in some deep dark hidden safe at the spa. Not very smart of them." 

Noah stripped down to his boxers and laid down next to Keats. "Let's sleep. Games begin again in two hours and forty-seven minutes." 

Keats pulled Noah close and spooned behind him, yes now he would be able to sleep. 

* * *

FBI LA Bureau  
Wednesday 2:36 

Mulder was going over files with an intense concentration that Dr. Grabbowski found disconcerting. Since the tranquilizer had worn off, Mulder was like an automation. He had been emotionally flat and somewhat removed at the spa, but now he seemed devoid of emotion, only a mechanism searching for facts. Since he woke up, Mulder had been unresponsive to Skinner's tentative touches of support, those touches had stopped earlier that day. 

Skinner, himself, was in manic mode. He was everywhere, doing everything. Marcus had tried to approach him and was slammed up against a brick wall. Right now, he couldn't reach either of them, he just have to let them be until this was over. 

Marcus got up slowly and headed towards the door. He had put this off long enough, he would have to tell Sikora that both Mulder and Skinner were at risk. Of course, all that meant was that they would have to be watched so somebody could catch them if they fell. Damn. 

* * *

FBI LA Bureau  
Wednesday 3:13 PM 

"Thanks for the heads up. I won't forget this." 

Keswick put the secure phone down and quickly picked it up again and dialed Director Sikora. 

* * *

FBI LA Bureau  
Conference Room 3-23 J  
Wednesday 3:27 Pm 

Sikora, Keswick, Stein , Mulder and Skinner sat around a small round table in a conference room. Sikora leaned back and observed Keswick. He looked uncomfortable in his usual ill-fitting suit. Sikora was a bit wary of Keswick since he had been cornered in his office and dressed down in grand fashion. His weak defense of 'need to know' hadn't impressed Keswick and Sikora had marveled at the nerve of the man. It was while he was being yelled at that Sikora decided that he liked this man a lot. He finally addressed SAIC Keswick, "OK Amos, this is your party." 

Keswick nodded and leaned forward. "We've got trouble coming. General Minaimi is an old friend and owed me a few favors. He was happy to do the fly-bys, but somehow Lancer found out and is following up. Minaimi said that the CIA is planning to take over the investigation early tomorrow morning. The FBI is being completely cut out of the investigation. 

They have had an agent working on the fringes of the case for over a year. Their case was about illegal technology transfer to foreign countries. They just got their agent in. We're holding him. His name is Hector Rios." 

Sikora leaned back in his chair, "Damn, Lancer is an alley cat. The CIA wants the research data, Rios would have informed them about the nature of it. 

Mulder was turning pale, he quickly stood up and began to pace. "No. It has to be destroyed. The Nazis weren't only interested in prolonging lives of the perfect few, but also developing clones to keep for the purposes of organ transplant. They anticipated organ transplants, even had some notes on organ regeneration as a possible avenue of research so they wouldn't have to keep alive complete bodies. 

There is also a lot in the records about controlling the social order by the additive property of the life extension drug. None of this has been accomplished, but the research plans and formulas give enough information to get the experiments going again. Lancer and the CIA would not hesitate to make use of them. It could be the ultimate bloodless weapon." 

Everyone at the table was quiet. Skinner turned to Mulder and quietly asked, "Is there any information you're getting from the spa that we need to hang onto?" 

Mulder nodded his head. "It looks like DeLyria and Son were networking internationally. In the files there are forty-four people in fifteen countries that have some knowledge of the project and are in support of it. The extent of their involvement needs further investigation." 

Skinner nodded his head, "Agent Mulder, would you please go and insure that information is pulled and given to Agent Callahan and Agent Wiggins? Ask them to start back ground checks. Go and download everything coming from the spa and sift through it. Keep anything you anticipate the CIA will need to located and prosecute these people and destroy the rest. Completely destroy the computer you work on after you're done. Have Langley help you. Make sure that there is no way to reconstruct what came through that computer. How long will it take?" 

Mulder stopped, "Only a couple of hours or so. All the records have been collected. All the research is over there. Towers said that Michael DeLyria had bragged that they would never find the back-up discs, but they are in the spa somewhere." 

Skinner nodded his head, "Don't worry about the back-up discs right now. Check back with me after the computer is destroyed and the files are ready for the CIA." 

Mulder had shown more animation in the last fifteen minutes than he had since he woke up. Now he looked on the verge of rebellion, but looking into Skinner's eyes which were on fire with purpose, he said "Yes Sir" and turned around and strode out the door. 

Sikora reached for his cell phone. "Marcus, Mulder's on his way to the Hack Center to see Callahan and Wiggins. Keep an eye on him. We're going to be tied up for a while." 

Sikora recognized the look on Skinner's face. He had a plan and Sikora braced himself. Skinner's plans never fit into a box, were never ordinary. Finally, he could stand the suspense no longer. "Out with it Badger, what do you have in mind?" 

Skinner hesitated, looking questionably at Keswick. Sikora looked at Skinner and said, "He stays. Out with it." Skinner leaned forward and with quiet intensity said, "We get some rocket fuel and we burn that fucking place down to ashes. We make sure nothing is left except what we want to hand over for the CIA's investigation. Let the CIA have the mess, but not any possibility to reconstruct the Nazi experiments." 

"My God! What are you saying!" ground out Keswick. Skinner turned on him. "I'm saying, we nipped this attempt to resume the experiments in the bud this time. These experiments did have US government sanction at one time and then a shadow government continued this evil. It is nave to think it couldn't happen again. We have the opportunity to stop it here." 

Sikora rubbed his hands over his face and looked at Skinner, "The CIA will take over the prisoners." 

Skinner retorted, "So what? The DeLyrias, according to Towers and Plant, are not that bright. They follow a cookbook, they'll remember some, but not enough. They never trusted the various scientists enough to share more than what was necessary for whatever little niche they were working in. Rios has seen the plans for the tanks and such, but he wasn't all the way in yet. They'll have partial knowledge. Maybe Towers and Plant can confuse them more before we turn them over." 

"My God!" Keswick cried out again. Keswick looked at the man who had turned out to be such a surprise. Skinner was younger and much nicer than Keswick had surmised. Skinner had not held any grudge against him and had even laughed about the piece of community art that Mulder had mangled in order to secure his prisoner the last time his agent had been in California on a serial murder case. They both were of the opinion that Mulder had done the piece of artwork a favor. 

Now here was the man proposing an illegal and dangerous act in front of him and the Director. A vigilante conspiracy, so tempting, but they were FBI, the law. The man certainly had balls. 

Keswick turned his head and to his astonishment, Sikora looked like he was actually considering this, more than considering it. 

Sikora swung his head towards Keswick, "Amos, this stops now. Are you in or out?" 

Keswick leaned back in his chair, images of Mulder as a child in one of those tanks, of little kids dying in those tanks...Nazis flashed through his head, it didn't take long. There was an immense satisfaction in stepping off the treadmill of bureaucracy and power plays to make a decisive move. "I'm in." 

Sikora stood up, "Agreed. Sid get a hold of Frohike and get him to my office. Let's get to work, gentlemen. 

* * *

Lockheed Detention Center  
Wednesday 4:52 PM 

It wasn't Nava who woke Noah and Keats up, it was Mulder. Noah let the agent in in and sat down on the mattresses next to Keats who was rearranging his long limbs in a sitting position. Mulder, in jeans and tee-shirt, sat down on the mattresses and crossed his legs. He reached into a bag he had carried and handed over two Starbuck coffees, one with sugar and one with sugar and cream. 

He watched the tired men struggle to wake up. Noah glanced at his watch which was on the floor on top a pile of clothes. "It's only been two hours! I'd tell you to go away, but you brought gifts." 

Mulder smiled, that the two enjoyed a more intimate relationship than partners was obvious. That pleased Mulder in some way that he was ill defined to ponder on at the moment. He shifted his weight to make himself more comfortable as the men slipped on tee-shirts and started to drink their coffee. 

Finally, Mulder started talking, "Things are happening. Director Sikora wants you to concentrate on the DeLyrias and the nurse in cell B-17. We have a limited time, we got word that the CIA is taking over in the morning, probably early." 

Noah sputtered out disgustingly, "Lancer." 

Mulder nodded his head, "Director Sikora, AD Skinner, Sid Stein and Keswick are up to something, so smile and follow orders. The Director said not to worry about the back-up disc. All he wants to make sure of is that there is no way to reconstruct the research and experiments. Go after the foreign contacts. Also you've got an CIA agent in custody, Hector Rios. It would be humiliating if he was identified and the CIA didn't know how we marked him. 

Hector has been on the case for over a year. The case was about illegal transfer of technology. Play with him a while and get all the records in order for the CIA." In response to their twin frowns, Mulder smiled, "As I said, those four are up to something. Smile and follow orders." 

FBI Bureau  
Conference Room 3-23 J  
Wednesday 5:01 PM 

Keswick was slouched back in a metal government chair and was stretching his legs going through the creative voice mail at the FBI Crime Lab in on El Segundo. The voice mail was creative because it could roll you through loops and make you feel like you were in Wonderland. Finally he connected with a human who was unhappy at Keswick's request to page Mickey Malloy. After another five minutes Mickey Malloy came on the line. 

"Hi Mickey, I need a favor." 

Mickey's voice became wary, "What Amos?" 

"Mickey, I want you to loose or accidentally destroy the samples of gel we sent you. Lancer's moving in early tomorrow." 

"That's a bit risky." 

"Mickey, believe me, it's a righteous deed. Do it now and put in a request for more samples. There's no reason for you to believe to think you couldn't get them. We noted that there were four gallons of the stuff. It would not be strange for you to try a more experimental approach at first, knowing you could get more." 

"Good Lord, Amos, what are you talking about?" 

"You don't want to know. As far as you are concerned you ruined or lost some samples and like a good little scientist you asked for more samples. End of story." 

"You got it, Amos. I'll put the request in now." 

"Thanks, Mickey. I owe you. How about the Pit next week? I'll buy. 

"Sounds like a plan," Mickey answered and rang off. Ya, sounds like a plan, Keswick thought, if we're not all in jail. 

Lurking along Sepulveda  
Wednesday 6:07 PM 

Frohike drove with extreme caution, he was hauling twenty-two gallons of jet fuel. He felt like the poor guys who use to haul nitro-glycerin. A bump and then boom! This was his third run and his last. He was a bundle of nerves. Only two more miles and then off to buy paint brushes and fire retardant jumpers, like that would help if this shit ignited. 

Bio-link Body Systems  
Wednesday 6:23 PM 

Keswick rolled into the spa's parking lot and saw the silver canisters lined up beside the back loading dock. Innocent looking things. He alighted from his car and walked in the spa. It took thirty seconds for him to raise an alarm that the building was structurally unsafe, well it was built over the side of a canyon. Keswick had always thought that was asking for disaster. 

He quickly organized the evacuation and did a room by room search with Kana. Then he put in a request for the building to be evaluated by building inspectors as soon as possible He covertly and carefully collected one of the gallons of green gel and left the building. 

He had just put the gallon of gel in his trunk when he was cornered by Agent Scully. She was not happy. 

"Sir, this is ridiculous. There is nothing wrong with that building. We're doing important work here." 

"Agent Scully, that building is hanging over a mountain." 

Scully opened her mouth but nothing came out at first. In a softer voice Scully continued, "Sir, that building has been hanging over that mountain for fifty years or more." 

"It's a bit tired, wouldn't you say? You and the other agents get back to the Bureau and stay there until you're ordered differently." 

Scully gave Keswick a shrewd look and nodded her head, "Yes Sir." With that she literally turned on her heel and walked away. 

Keswick sighed, he looked up at the building that was the place of so much suffering and death of small innocents and then looked down at the canisters of jet fuel. Yes, it would be good that this place would be dust and ash. He looked around at the surrounding greenery. Hopefully the fire department would be able to keep it from spreading. Luckily there were no people up here. The few estates were lower on the hill side and far away enough that they shouldn't be harmed. God, just don't let the wind change. 

**CIA**  
Laurence Lancer's Office  
Wednesday 6:58 PM 

Lancer leaned back in his impressive leather desk chair and put his hands behind his back and stretched his elbows back. This was going to be sweet. Having Rios in the right place at the right time was incredibly perfect. Let Sikora do all the work and he would take the spoils. Perfect. 

Lancer dropped his arms and leaned forward. Sikora wouldn't know what hit him in the morning when he took over the operation. Lancer smiled as he imagined Sikora's expression and that of Igor, his nickname for Sid Stein. 

The data Rios had sent was intriguing. Lancer knew that this kind of stuff could translate into power and influence. Man, Sikora probably had no idea what he had. Rios had been unsure what the focus of the investigation was, but it was apparent that they were fishing. Probably realized it was important, but had no idea how important. Rios had made one call before he was apprehended. 

He'd be sure to make a stink about their interfering with a CIA operation and imprisoning one of his agents. Let Sikora squirm about that. 

Sikora had no way of knowing that he knew anything. Lancer had found out that Sikora, Stein, Skinner and a few agents had gone out to California and hadn't been able to find out why until Rios called. Lancer stood up to get ready for his flight. He had always disliked Sikora. He was a boy scout, always prattling about justice and right and wrong as if those notions were anything to do with the Agency's reality. 

The name of the game was active protection of the power base of the government. Sikora was definitely not ready to play with the big boys. Of course, the FBI was like that, only the Agency knew how to deal with the reality that they confronted everyday. 

Lancer walked out the door. He was small inoffensive looking man. Invisible in a crowd, but having a reputation for ruthlessness and a lack of compassion. He was in his early sixties and his craving for power and control in the 'game' was as sharp as it was in his youth. 

Lockheed Detention Center  
Wednesday 9:02 PM 

Hector Rios was bored and disgusted that after all this time he finally had gotten to the source of the operation only to fall into the FBI hands and end his case. Stupid FBI, he hoped Lancer would hang them by the balls when he confronted them about detaining an CIA agent. He sat up as he heard footsteps coming down the hall. 

The big red-headed guy stopped at his cell and motioned for one of the guards to open it. The big red head addressed him in a polite voice, "Hello again, Agent Rios, I'm Agent Towers. You really should have told us you were CIA when we interviewed you the first time. It would have saved you some uncomfortable hours in here." 

Rios was not about to respond to the friendly voice, "I need to call in." 

"By all means. Come with me, I'll get you a phone, a meal and a bed. I'm sorry we don't have your clothes. We'll get you back to the spa in the morning to get your stuff." 

Rios got up and shouldered past Towers and stomped down the hall. Towers caught up with him and suppressed a smile. "Agent Rios, is there anything else you need? You seem upset." 

Rios stopped and looked up into Towers' face, "Why are you being so cooperative?" 

Towers looked down with what he hoped was an innocent expression, "Oh, but we're always try to be cooperative with the CIA." 

FBI LA Bureau  
Skinner's quarters  
Wednesday 10:38 PM 

"What are you four up to?" 

"It's the five of us. Frohike is in too." 

"Now your scaring me, Badger. Tell me." 

"Can't Baby." At Fox's dark glare, Skinner walked up and kissed his cheek and pulled him into a hug. Mulder was stiff and unresponsive but didn't pull away. "Fox do you know the back road that leads up the canyon and ends at Finch's outlook?" 

"Ya, I even went up there to get a good look at the spa. Why?" 

"I want you to met me up there at 2:30 this morning. Will you be there? Please." 

Mulder relaxed and leaned into Badger, "Is that an order from my AD?" 

Skinner smiled, "It is if you won't come just for me." 

"Ya, I'll be there. Then can you tell me?" 

Skinner held Mulder a bit closer, "Ya, then I'll tell you." 

Mulder sighed and sought out Badger sweet mouth. God, he needed this. Needed to feel his lover close to him. The kiss became deeper and they slipped down to Skinner's single bed. It didn't take long for their clothes to be shed in a flurry. 

Both of them were desperate and quickly arranged themselves in one of their favorite positions. A classic sixty-nine, perfect when they were in a hurry without condoms and lube. 

They pressed up against each other, each needing the feel of each other. They clutched each other, taking comfort in each other's smell and texture of each other's skin. Despite, their desperation, their lovemaking took on the cadence of a gentle caress. They came within seconds of each other and each were thinking that they had never felt so connected to each other. 

End of 17 

* * *

Chapter 18 

FBI LA Bureau   
Conference Room 3-23 J  
Wednesday 11:47 PM 

Frohike bustled into the conference room under a burden of paper and sickly colored green cloth that somehow just missed lime. He dumped the pile on the conference table and plopped down into a chair. He nodded a greeting to his four co-conspirators and then said, "It's all set. I've got sixty-six gallons of jet fuel and two hundred small explosives, all remote controlled. 

In front of you, gentlemen, are our painting and dumping accelerant gear. There are hats, jumpers, booties and gloves. All this stuff plus any thing else you are wearing has to be left inside the building. These are fire retardant but will burn completely once the place gets going. 

Bring a change of clothes, shoes, socks, the works, with you and leave them in the vehicle you come in. Also there is a box of baby wipes for each of you. Use them to clean yourself before you put on your change of clothes. You don't want even a drop of that stuff on you. Rub a few wipes over your hair and wash it as soon as you're able. 

After everyone grabbed their share of green attire and their box of baby wipes, Frohike spread out a modified blueprint of the Bio-link building. "I had a computer print this with the corrected data. The empty canisters will all fit into this room on the first floor. It doesn't have any furniture or equipment in it. It was used for muscle assessment." 

Sikora interrupted, "How much will be left?" 

Frohike looked up. "Not much, the fire should reach 5,000 degrees. Most everything will be turned to ash. Now the report on the room contents have been changed to include the canisters, it will be Lancer's problem to figure out what and why they were there. We want them all in that room, makes it look like Bio-link stored them there." 

Frohike looked around for any more questions and when there were done, he continued. "Director Sikora and Agent Stein will do the top three floors with twenty gallons of fuel." Frohike reached into a folder he had carried in and handed each a set of papers. "Here are directions on what to paint the fuel on and where to dump it. Once you do that then both of you leave and head up to Finch's outlook." 

Pulling out more papers, he gave Skinner and Keswick both a set. "Here's the instructions for the four sub-basements. You'll have forty-six gallons of fuel. The subbasements are critical and will take more time. You have to follow the directions exactly. It's mostly steel and concrete down there. We want that machinery destroyed and the tanks melted down to chemical ash for the most part. We're burning it from the bottom up. As you see you, two start on the lowest sub-basement while Director Sikora and Agent Stein start on the third floor and work their way down." Frohike paused, making sure the two teams understood each other. 

"When each team leaves, pile your gear near the door. Before I leave, I'll count the jumpsuits to make sure you're all out. I'll be the last one out and I'll be setting the detonators. That means three vehicles. If we park in back of the building, we won't be seen from the road." 

Frohike reached into various pockets in his jacket, vest and jeans and withdrew five small flashlights. "These are miner's lights. They're especially insulated to guard from errant sparks. The electricity, as you know, had to be turned off. If you look at the handles, you'll see that they were especially designed to be held in your teeth. Anyone have a problem with that? Dentures or such?" 

Everybody shook their heads in the negative. "Good, it's going to be hard enough with just these little flashlights, but they're bright. Made for underground shafts and caves," Frohike enlightened them. 

Sikora leaned back in his chair and said, "Fantastic work, Mr. Frohike. Ah, is there any change?" 

Frohike leaned back in his chair and grinned at Sikora. "Na, did you expect some?" 

Sikora grinned back. "One can always hope. How much does the Bureau unofficially owe you?" 

"Another seven thousand for materials, gotten, I might add, on quick notice. As for services, I'm doing this Pro Bono. 

Sikora straightened up and then stood. "Well gentlemen, one for all and all for one?" As everybody was getting up, Sikora continued, "For the duration of this operation, we are under the command and in the capable hands of Mr. Frohike." 

Frohike looked slightly stunned, but knew this was no time to think about the honor given to him by Sikora. All eyes were on him. He stood as tall as possible and said, "Gentlemen, meet you at the back door. Leave as soon as you 're ready." Then Frohike folded the blueprint and grabbed his pile of green and headed towards the door. 

Finch's Lookout Thursday 12:21 AM 

Mulder, never one to wait for the last minute, sat bundled up on a rock with night vision binoculars up against his eyes. Nothing, no movement. The outlook overlooked Bio-link, but was a good distance away. He wondered what was going on, but trusted all the men involved. 

Lancer's intrusion changed everything. It made everything problematical, uncertain, difficult. Mulder put down the binoculars and put his head in his arms, Lancer would continue the evil, if he could. Mulder pulled in tighter. He had an idea about the five Musketeers and their mission. Badger had hinted broadly enough, without giving him 'direct knowledge' if things went wrong. Mulder, however, couldn't imagine how they hoped to accomplish it. 

He looked up again and thought he saw some movement on the road. A car moving without lights. He brought the binoculars back up to his eyes and saw the car drive into the Bio-link parking lot and disappear behind the building. After another five minutes, another lightless car followed the same routine. So far, Frohike, Skinner and Keswick had arrived. 

Three minutes later, yet another vehicle without headlights entered the Bio-link parking lot. Director Sikora, himself and Sid Stein were in on the party. Mulder had about five guesses about what they were doing. No doubt, they would be busy for awhile. He wasn't supposed to be here until 2:30. This was one party he definitely was not going to crash, however, he might just add a bit of festivity to it. 

He gathered himself up and went to his car. He drove his car slowly down into the valley. 

* * *

It was miserable work. Even with the cool California autumn night outside, the inside of the building was stifling. No air moved and, without the air system, the air was unbelievably stale. The smell of the jet fuel was almost overpowering. Frohike wished the idea of face masks had occurred to him. 

Sikora and Stein moved methodically through the room, referring to Frohike's instructions frequently. Sid was having trouble opening the jet fuel gallons and had to have Sikora open them for him. 

In the sub-basements, Keswick and Skinner were working together, industriously cramming jet fuel into every assigned nook and cranny and throwing it against the walls. Neither spoke, but worked well together. 

When they reached the tank room, Skinner was momentary swamped with emotion. To think his lover had been...he stopped the thought. He blinked his eyes, trying to clear them of tears. He didn't dare rub his eyes with his gloved hands. 

Keswick was already busy painting one of the tanks, Skinner put down a gallon and started on another one. He looked around momentarily, thinking perhaps he could take some small memento of Mulder's little sister to his lover. There was nothing that would suggest the lives of any of the children, Skinner looked down and concentrated on his work. Better to burn it all down to ash. Help Mulder pick out a tomb stone and lay the poor little girl to rest. 

* * *

Finch's Lookout  
Thursday 1:23 AM 

Mulder stopped his vehicle and got out. He reached in and retrieved a jacket and put it on. He reached back in for some binoculars and headed towards the edge of the outlook. He brought the binoculars up to his eyes and strained to see any movement, still none. He sat down quietly to wait. 

Bio-link  
Thursday 1:54 AM 

Sikora and Sid stood wiping themselves down on opposite sides of their car. They had disrobed and streaked to the car at the same time. They both hurried because of the cold. "Sid, get your jeans on and then come over here. We'll have to do each other's backs." 

Sid looked up at he sky, it was hazy, not too many stars to be seen. "OK. What about Frohike?" 

"He said he had a wet beach towel in his van. Brought it out with him thinking that perhaps he'd see the ocean." 

"Not this time around. I'm set. I'm coming over." 

"What do you think of Frohike and his friends?" 

"There back-ground checks are good. Interesting guys. I think there is a lot of talent and that you sure add another special unit to your collection. Let's see, Nava, Ooka, kana and Lone Gunmen or maybe Guna, Lona, Mena... Shut up, Sid." 

"Only trying to help, boss. It was you that named the units, after all." 

"Right. I'll drive, Sid." 

* * *

Finch's Lookout  
Thursday 1:59 AM 

Mulder stood up, a car without lights had emerged from around the Bio-link building and drove out the drive-way. Mulder knew they were heading up to the lookout. He went over to his car and started pulling things out. 

By the time Sikora and Sid's car pulled into the lookout, Mulder had an insulated chest of hot coffee from Starbuck's sitting on the hood of his car and a carton of sandwiches. Mulder had taken advantage of California's propensity for twenty-four hour shopping. 

Mulder handed Sikora and Sid the coffee which they gratefully accepted. "We're waiting on Skinner, Keswick and Frohike," Sikora offered. Mulder nodded his head, unsure if Skinner would get in trouble for naming his cohorts ahead of time. 

At two thirty-six, another car left the Bio-link parking lot. Sikora had borrowed Mulder's binoculars and pointed to the car. "That's Badger and Amos." Finally, at two forty-two another vehicle left the Bio-link parking lot. "Ah, there's Frohike. Well, the whole gang should be here soon." 

Skinner and Keswick pulled into the lookout and Mulder quickly meant them with coffee. Skinner smiled at Mulder and asked if they'd seen Frohike leave yet. Once he was answered in the affirmative, he turned towards the entrance to wait, standing as close to Mulder as he dared. 

Soon, Frohike's old van bumped into the lookout and Mulder met him with a coffee and said softly, "I hear you're the fearless leader of this motley crew." 

Frohike grinned and answered in a soft voice, "I don't know about fearless." Frohike then looked over at Sikora. "Do you want to start?" 

Sikora nodded and walked over to Mulder. "Agent Mulder, you have no prior or direct knowledge of any events tonight. You are currently sedated and under Dr. Grabbowski's care. However, since we are all in your dream, we wanted you to do something. Mr. Frohike, please instruct Agent Mulder." 

Mulder, confused, looked over to his lover. Badger seemed relaxed and pleased so Mulder decided to play it through. 

Frohike walked over to Mulder and handed him a small box with a lever on it. It looked harmless enough, only the size of a cigarette pack. Frohike started the instructions. "This, Mulder, is a remote control detonator. Push the lever and it starts a chain of two hundred small explosives which will initiate a fire which will heat up to 5,000 degrees because we used jet fuel as an accelerant. If we're lucky, there won't be anything left but ashes. Lancer won't be able to do a thing." 

Mulder's eyes were filling with tears that finally started dropping. He couldn 't get his mouth to move, so he took the box and went over to the rock wall that formed a protective border at the edge of the lookout. He sat on the rock wall and looked at all of them for a moment then looked into the darkness ahead and below him and pushed the lever. Nothing, he looked at Frohike in confusion. Frohike grinned. "It'll take about five minutes before we see anything. Let's get more coffee and some of those sandwiches and get comfortable and watch." 

Six and half minutes later flames could be seen. Five more minutes and the building was fully engulfed. Another three minutes, five fire trucks had made it up the canyon only to sit and watch. The fire was so hot, no one dared to get within a quarter mile of it. The firemen just watched, ready to fight a brush fire if it spread. 

Up on the lookout, Mulder watched in wonder like a child at a Fourth of July fire works. Skinner stood behind him with his arms around Mulder's shoulders. Only Keswick was ignorant of their relationship and Skinner knew that Keswick would keep it to himself. 

Three hours later it was all over. Bio-link had been leveled to ash. The sandwiches were gone and so was the coffee. Time to break up the party. Keswick stood up and turned around to address their little group. "Your plane is gassed up and ready to go. I suggest the Director, AD Skinner and Agents Stein and Mulder go immediately to the airport. You wouldn't want to run into Lancer. Mr. Frohike, I suggest that you pick up your friends which are waiting for you at the truck stop in Blythe and then continue back to D.C. Don 't forget to deliver that gallon of green gel to Doctor Kasahara and Agent Scully. Anymore to be said?" 

Sikora shook Frohike's hand and then Keswick's. "Have fun with Lancer. I expect a full report when I see you next." 

* * *

As the three vehicles departed Finch's Lookout, another watcher dropped his binoculars into his lap. Krycek shook his head in amazement. He never would have figured those guys had the balls to do what they did. He had been watching Skinner as he held Mulder. Interesting. No one seemed to take notice, so it might not be what it seemed. Worth keeping an eye on. Maybe. Shit, he was now without an employer. 

However, he had successfully killed five men in D.C. Four looked like natural causes. It was good work. Damn, he only had half pay, but it was enough to get him started on his new vocation. Enough to get the word out to the right people. He needed a code name. What did DeLyria call him...oh ya... Viper. Viper had a nice ring to it. He'd head off to Europe for a while and test the waters. 

* * *

FBI LA Bureau  
Keswick's Office  
Thursday 6:32 AM 

Keswick barely had time to shower, shave and dress before an officious Lancer marched into his office and demanded control of the Bio-link case. Keswick pretended to be shocked and put up a token protest and then leaned back and consented. 

Lancer sat down with a self-satisfied smirk and informed Keswick that it had not been wise to interfere with an on going CIA investigation and detain one of their agents. 

Keswick apologized and said they had not realized Rios was an agent until last night. He had not identified himself in the initial interrogation which was a breach of interagency rules. Keswick informed Lancer that he expected an apology within the next two weeks. 

Lancer was irritated that they had identified Rios as bothersome, but hardly worth much. 

Lancer stood up and looked down at Keswick. "Would you please notify Director Sikora and AD Skinner that I wish to see them immediately?" 

Keswick leaned back, happy to let Lancer have his little height advantage. "Sorry Sir, but they're on their way back to D.C. Excuse me while I get the files on the case for you." 

"On their way back!" 

"Just a minute, Sir." Keswick turned his back on Lancer and made a number of calls, implementing and authorizing the turn over of the operation to the CIA. 

Finally Keswick turned back to Lancer. "Things will be ready in about an hour. We're holding sixty-five prisoners over at Lockheed Detention Center. Agents Towers and Plant have all the files and will turn them over and all FBI personnel will depart the facility with the CIA's arrival. You'll need to contact your local office and start providing meals." 

Lancer, impatient with these mundane issues, barked, "I already have agents over there." 

"Then your agency is taking responsibility for the prisoners. Personally, I'm glad. What a hassle." 

Keswick was interrupted by the phone. He picked it up and listened and then said, "No problem, just give them the files and walk out. Call Sandy, she'll make plane reservations for all the D.C. agents who need to get back. Bye." 

Lancer was getting irate, this was not the way this was supposed to go. Lancer glared at Keswick and spat out, "Why did Sikora and AD Skinner leave?" 

Keswick shook his head sadly. "Well after that Bio-link place burnt down to the ground, there wasn't a lot of reason to stay. It's just lucky we got a bit of the data out of the place." 

Lancer was about to answer when his cell phone rang. He grabbed it and snarled, "Lancer." By the time he had listened to his agent at the other end and shoved the cell phone back into his pocket, he was beet red. He angrily loomed over Keswick's desk. "My agent says that building is literally ashes, how did you let this happen? My agent says it was arson. Sikora's going to be in deep shit for letting this happen." 

Keswick pushed a button and leaned forward. "Amy, could you bring in some coffee for me and Director Lancer? Thanks." 

Keswick looked up at Lancer. "Please have a seat. Unfortunate business, but no one let it happen. The building was listing and I really thought it was unsafe. I called in the building inspectors and evacuated the building. It would appear that not all the bad guys were caught in the net. They evidently took the opportunity to destroy whatever evidence that was in there." 

Lancer was starting to look a bit ill. "Any leads?" 

Keswick shook his head sadly. "No, but you still have the prisoners and we have files on some foreign money network that we fortunately had transferred to the detention center as well as a list of all the contents of the building. 

Director Sikora, DA Skinner and myself wrote a synopsis of the case which is now in the president's hands. This, you understand, was necessary because of certain government ties, some which go back to the late forties. Well, all I can say is thank you for taking this off my hands. The mop up on this is going to be long and tiresome. I don't envy you." 

Lancer furiously grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door, nearly bowling over Amy as she entered with a tray containing coffee and rolls. After Lancer cleared the door, Keswick smiled at the bewildered Amy and said, "Sit down, Darling, have some coffee and such. It looks like Director Lancer will not be joining me. We've got a lot to do today, but let's take a break first." Amy smiled and sat down and reached for the coffee, something was up, it had been three years since SAIC Keswick had dared ask her to make the coffee. 

Soaring over the Grand Canyon  
Thursday 8:01 AM 

Mulder leaned back and glanced around and saw his lover and Sikora and Sid sprawled across there seats in the wild abandonment of sleep. God, what men these were! They had stopped it, they had ended it and they had let him pull the trigger. 

He closed his eyes and saw the magnificent flames reaching to the sky. His usual uneasiness around fire was non-existent. The air had been cool and Badger's arms had been warm and secure around him. God, he felt so good, so free, so at peace. 

At peace, even about his sister. He had always expected that he would find out she was dead, but not knowing, he had never been able to kill the hope that lingered within him. Now he knew, now he could go on. Now he could go on and build a life with Badger. 

The men responsible for all this evil had turned out to be very ordinary and unimpressive. It was frightening how much damage a few commonplace flawed and evil people could do. He really shouldn't be surprised, he'd caught enough killers who were petty nobodies who grasped for power and control. No difference. Mulder's eyelids started getting heavy and he let them close. No nightmares, no Nothing just cleansing, brilliant flames reaching to the skies. 

End of Chapter 18 

* * *

Chapter 19 

Hoover Building  
X-Files Office  
Friday 12:01 PM 

Mulder leaned back as he finished his report on the Paperclip Case as it was being called now. He had already stamped 'closed' on all the related X-Files folders and sent them up to archives. He unconsciously touched the spot where Dr. Kasahara had removed the implant. It had become a habit now. He was oddly let down. 

Skinner was up to his ears in back district reports and event reports from Reg. He wouldn't be available for some time. At least not this weekend. The basement was empty, Scully was with Dr. Kasahara and would be working down there for at least a week. Mulder looked at the old files waiting to be worked on but didn't have the energy to pick one up. 

Just as he was wondering what to do with himself for the tenth time, Dr. Grabbowski knocked at the door. Mulder looked up and smiled, "Hi, Dr. G. Who sent you, Director Sikora or AD Skinner?" 

Marcus grinned, "Just me. Let's get some lunch." 

Mulder pulled himself up and grabbed his coat and followed Marcus out the door. Mulder knew that when Dr. Grabbowski asked for your company, that it was extremely unwise to refuse. 

They walked across the Mall pulling their coats tighter against the wind that whipped around them. "It's going to snow any time," commented Marcus. 

Mulder looked up and around, "I think I see a few flurries starting, look up." 

"Your right! First snow of the season." 

When they reached Vickie's, two of their sons were busy putting lights, garland and ribbons in the window. "Not even Thanksgiving, and their decorating for Christmas. It won't be long till the city workers are risking life and limb to decorate DC." 

"You don't like the decorations?" 

Mulder took off his coat and hung it on an adjacent chair and sat down, "Not much, just makes driving downtown more difficult for me. Everything is some shade of gray except for the yellow. Melrose Blvd. has lots of yellow." 

They chatted during lunch and avoided any topic of importance. Marcus was pleased. The fire at Bio-link had been a balm to Mulder and Skinner. Typical let down, but no real problem. Mulder just needed something to do. He'd make sure Reg or Skinner had something for him when Mulder got back to his office. 

Hoover Building  
Skinner's Office  
Friday 4:34 PM 

Skinner put down the phone and looked across at Reg. "Well, when do you want to take over my job? You did a great job. I feel somewhat superfluous and anxious to go home." 

Reg smiled, there was the barest buzz going on about Sikora, Skinner besting Lancer, but no one was giving any details. Must have been fun. Reg grinned, "Only worked cuz the bad guys were on vacation or something. The guy that brought in a gun at the federal building in Indiana turned out to be nothing but an attention seeking loser." 

Skinner gave Reg a wide smile, which disconcerted Reg a bit, it was the first smile of that kind he had ever seen on Skinner's face. "Well, then I am going home." 

Skinner grabbed his coat and headed for the door. 

* * *

Mulder just e-mailed a short profile to an police department in Arizona. He had done a few this afternoon, stuff that would normally go to Quantico. He knew Reg had been directed by Dr. G to direct some work towards him after lunch. It was OK with him, in fact he was grateful. He was not looking forward to the long weekend alone. 

Last night, both of them were too tired to do anything but fall into bed. Mulder hadn't even turned on his fish light. He grinned, when he had gotten up in the morning and checked them, they were fine. There was a note from Daisy Grabbowski that she and her kids had fed them. He'd get some flowers for her and what for the kids, candy?" 

He turned around at a noise and there was Skinner, smiling at him. He came in quickly and closed the door and crossed the room and put his hands on Mulder's shoulders and bent his head to Mulder's neck and gave him a quick kiss and then whispered in Mulder's ear. "Can you leave now? I'm done for the weekend, I want to go home." 

Mulder turned, smiling in response, "Ya, let's go home." 

Skinner's condo  
Friday 5:38 PM 

They had barely made it into the condo before they seized each other. They were pulling at each other's clothes when the door bell rang. Skinner growled and turned around to check out the peek hole. It was Agent Scully, Dr. Sam Kasahara and an older man carrying a case. Skinner yelled for them to wait and quickly put his clothing back to rights. Mulder, seeing him, did the same thing. 

With a heartfelt damn, Skinner opened the door. Scully and Sam rushed in, both were talking leaving the older man to fend for himself. "Hello, I'm Dr. Abrams, I did the tests on Agent Mulder's eyes at John Hopkins." 

Skinner held out his hand, "Yes, Dr. Abrams. Come in. May I help you?" 

Dr. Abrams shook his head, "No, not you." He crossed over to Mulder who was being inundated with verbiage directed at him from Scully and Sam, none of which was comprehensible. Dr. Abrams put a stop to it by uttering a loud, "Hush! Everybody hush!" When it was quiet, Dr. Abrams said, "I know this is exciting, but let's sit. Agent Mulder needs to give his consent." 

Mulder stiffened at that and Skinner walked up behind him and gently pushed him towards the couch. "What is this all about, Dr. Abrams." 

Once settled on the chairs and couch, Skinner asked, "What's this about Dr. Abrams." 

Abrams was barely able to contain his own excitement. "I was intrigued by Agent Mulder's eye tests. It showed no structural deformities that would account for color-blindness. I couldn't understand it. His color-blindness is atypical in it's uniformity. I tried, but couldn't come up with a reason. 

Then when Dr. Scully and Dr. Kasahara returned, they gave me a small sample of the green gel that Agent Mulder had been submerged in." Dr. Abrams paused, "Agent Mulder, how long do you think you were in that tank?" 

Mulder bowed his head and softly said, "Five days." 

Abrams, too excited to notice the discomfort he was causing Mulder, hastened on. "The chemical composition of the stuff...well we don't need to go into that. What I think happened is that the stuff caused a malleable clear crust to form over Agent's Mulder's eyes. His sight is fine, but the crust interferes with some of the sight receptors causing the color-blindness. I'm betting that it slightly distorts some other colors as well. But what's so exciting, is that I think it is easily fixed!" 

Skinner and Mulder both repeated Dr. Abrams' last word together, "Fixed?" Only Skinner carried the thought on, "How?" 

Dr. Abrams smiled, "By slowly dissolving the crust, using a special solution. I've already made it up." Abrams turned to Mulder, "I want you to come to John Hopkins with me now, it will take approximately thirty hours. It will probably be painful, but not too much. We'll have to wire your eyes open like we would do for eye surgery and keep applying a sterile pads, saturated with the solution directly on your eyes. We'll wrap them for another twenty-four hours and then see what we've got." 

Abrams turned back to Skinner, "I used the entire sample Dr. Scully and Dr. Kasahara brought, I'd like to do some more work with this stuff. It might have applications for some eye diseases. Is there any more?" 

Skinner nodded, "We'll have a gallon of the stuff in a few days, I'll make sure you get it." 

Abrams nodded happily, "Agent Mulder, do you want to do this?" 

Mulder looked at Skinner and nodded. Abrams stood up, "Well then let's get going." 

John Hopkins Hospital  
E-Wing Room 123  
Sunday 8:42 PM 

Skinner sat beside Mulder's bed, grateful that he was asleep. It had been painful and Mulder was exhausted. Dr. Abrams would take the bandages off in less that two hours. Skinner looked at the bouquet of red roses with their abundance of green leaves that sat beside Mulder. He hoped that when the bandages were removed that Mulder would see them in all their natural beauty, not the gray he had become use to. It would be wonderful to get rid of the last remnant of damage those monsters did to Mulder's body. Skinner slouched back and stared at the roses. 

Scully and Sam came into Mulder's room and nodded to Skinner. It was almost time. A few minutes later, Dr. Abrams came in and gently shook Mulder's shoulder. As Mulder sat up, Abrams asked, "Are you ready?" Mulder softly said yes, thinking that this was right out of some old movie. Even the smell of roses. Red, he would bet. He felt, Badger take his hand. 

The wrapping was quickly removed and Mulder slowly opened his eyes. The room was dim, but he realized there was a difference. He turned towards the smell of the roses and there they were. Red with green leaves, he felt the tears dropping down his cheeks. He chocked out the words, "There're beautiful, thank you." 

Everyone was smiling and Dr. Abrams checked Mulder's eyes for any residue. "Turn up the lights, a bit. Ah, Agent Mulder your eyes look fine. You can leave anytime, but I want to check you next Thursday. I'm coming to DC so I'll just swing by the Hoover, ah, around 2PM. DA Skinner can you arrange for the powers that be to let me in?" 

Skinner who was not able to speak yet, nodded and then found his voice, "Thank you Doctor, thank you so much." 

Finally, Dr. Abrams, Scully and Sam left. Skinner was gathering up some of his lover's things and was stopped by Mulder's hand on his arm. He turned towards Mulder. 

Mulder looked searchingly into Skinner's eyes, "Dr. Abrams was right, some colors look a little different to me, but your beautiful brown eyes look the same. I'm glad. I fell in love with them the first night. They're how I knew you loved me." 

Skinner, overcome with emotion, pulled Mulder in tight and tried not to stay bawling. Mulder realizing Skinner's plight tried to lighten the tone. 

"I've always been peeved when everyone starts putting up decorations early for Christmas. Not this year, I can't wait to see all the stuff. Do we have lots of decorations to put up at the condo, or do we get to go shopping? I feel like a huge shopping spree, lots of red and green candles. What do you say, Badger?" 

Skinner pulled back and looked at his now impish lover and smiled, "I say, I love you and let's clean out a few stores." 

**THE END**

Two Voice Harmony-One 

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Jo Jo Lee 


End file.
